Harry Potter and the Root of all Evil
by LordAnarchy666
Summary: HP/RR time travel fic. During Harry's limbo trip in the Forbidden Forest, Harry is faced with two choices; to die, or be sent back 1000 years to stop the Root of All Evil before it can manifest itself. Harry chooses to live and emerges in the unknown
1. What is a name?

The Root of All Evil lay in the hearts of every man. Wealth, beauty, fame - it is all a lesser part of the bigger evil. Man wishes himself to be in the history books as a name never to be forgotten. Man wishes that songs and ballads will be written about him, and his name toasted and his family always respected. Man is afraid of dying. They are afraid of dying without having made a lasting impression on the world. They are afraid of dying without a legacy. Man, wizard, or something else, it is all the same.

Immortality.

Immortality is a pipe dream to most, nothing more than a fanciful idea. But to some, the mere possibility of it is more than enough to entice them. The chance to live forever will make even the strongest willed men do anything for the chance. The most benign of men can turn into the most evil, the holiest of men turn into the most blasphemous, the most loyal of men turn into the most traitorous. All at the chance of being remembered for all of eternity. For being around _for_ eternity.

So what of the man who sacrificed himself to save the world? The one man who was not afraid of dying, and accepted that he was going to die? The one man who was so selfless in his actions, that in return, he became something that everyone else wanted.

We are talking of Harry Potter of course.

He was ready to die. He was looking forward to finally meeting his parents and his godfather once more. But instead, he got something that he never expected. Something that guaranteed that his name will be remembered for eternity, one way or another. A chance to purge the Root of All Evil.

All books have a beginning, but not all books have an end. How are we to tell where to start when the book is infinite? All we can do is take it one chapter at a time.

**Harry Potter and the Root of All Evil**

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What is a name?

_Harry could feel his wand against his chest, but he made no attempt to draw it. He knew that the snake was too well protected, knew that if he managed to point the wand at Nagini, fifty curses would hit him first. And still, Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and now Voldemort tilted his head a little to the side, considering the boy standing before him, and a singularly mirthless smile curled the lipless mouth._

"_Harry Potter," he said very softly. His voice might have been part of the spitting fire. "The Boy Who Lived."_

_None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting: Everything was waiting. Hagrid was struggling, and Bellatrix was panting, and -_

_Voldemort had raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear -_

_He saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was gone._

* * *

Harry woke up and saw he was in a room that was completely colorless. There were no walls to this room, yet he was surrounded by _something. _ There was no light, yet the room was adequately illuminated. There was nothing of note in the area, as he could not call it a room. The word 'room' denotes a size, a shape, and enclosure, and for all Harry knew, this area was infinite.

The child martyr was panting as if he has suffered a bad nightmare. Yet he did not even have to breathe in this place. His body seemed intact, or at least what he remembered of it. Perhaps it really was just a nightmare?

Harry noticed a man sitting in a chair. The man looked very old, but he _looked_ familiar. He looked like he _should _know who this was. Harry, however, was drawing a blank.

"Am I dead?" was the first thing Harry blurted out.

"Ah, a good first question." The old man said. "That answer depends on you."

"Where am I?"

"That again, depends on you. This place exists, and doesn't"

"Wow, you are worse than Dumbledore." Harry grumbled. "So I got hit by the killing curse. What happened next?"

"Ah, straight to business then. Very well. Yes you did get hit by that curse. But something happened that neither one of you had foreseen. You were Tom Riddle's unintentional seventh horcrux." The man got out of his chair and started pacing around. "The Killing Curse is a fascinating spell. It works in ways most mortals cannot comprehend, but simply put, it severs the bonds that tie a soul to the mortal plane. The Killing urse destroyed the Horcrux that was inside of you. It severed the tethers of the soul fragment, and released itself from the world."

Harry subconsciously touched the scar on his forehead. "My scar?"

"Correct." The man answered. "However that bit of soul was so entrenched with your own, after 17 years of symbiotic relationship, that it attempted to take your own soul with it."

"And?" Harry asked with held breath.

"The result is something that should not occur in the mortal realms, so the Fates have intervened."

"So you are Fate?" Harry asked incredulously. "What is Fate?"

"No, I am but an emissary. I was once known as Myrddin Emrys, but that was a long time ago. The wizards of this era still know my name as Merlin. Fate is all around us. We breathe it in, we smell it, we use it every day, to trim our hair, clean our shoes, and even kill."

"Fate is magic?" Harry asked, having read through the lines.

"It is, and also so much more. Magic is our life, and our very existence." To the eyes of a mortal wizard like you, Fate and Magic are indistinguishable. But to someone like –"

"So, uh, how did you become an emissary of Fate? Of Magic?" asked Harry. He wasn't in the mood for philosophy lessons from a barmy old man.

"Well, it was the wizards who did it really. Society still remembers my name after two thousand years, so that's why I was chosen. However there are more important things here. You have two choices."

"I'm listening."

"Your first choice is to die. However Voldemort is still alive, with a Horcrux left, not to mention his immense magical prowess. Even if he had no Horcruxes he would be a very tough opponent. You can hope that your friend finishes off the snake, and hope by some miracle Voldemort gets killed. I would estimate chance of success about 10%"

"And the other?" Harry asked, not liking where this is going.

"You live. But you are going to be sent back to a time before you become a Horcrux."

"I have to _relive_ my whole life?" Harry gasped, astonished.

"You will retain all your memories and magic. _And_ your body. However it is not as simple as that. You will be sent back before the first Horcrux is made. The _very_ first," Merlin exclaimed.

"When…"

"900 years ago. Dark wizard named Herpo the Foul. He was also a parselmouth. He did not discover the theory of the Horcrux, so you have to go back even further than that. Do you know who I am referring too?"

Harry thought for a few minutes. "No…Salazar Slytherin?"

"Correct. You have to go back to the age of the founders and prevent the idea of Horcruxes from ever being known. They are a blemish upon nature, and they unbalance the natural order of the world. Their effects reach all the way into this plane of existence."

"So I am being sent back 1000 years into the past... Do I get any help?" Harry asked, still unbelieving of what was being told to him.

"Yes. You get to take 7 of your possessions, anything you once owned, present or past. Keep in mind that a prophecy will still be made to kill Voldemort in 1000 years time." As he said that, 7 trunks materialized in the room.

"What! How am I suspected to live 1000 years? And what am I supposed to do to pass the time?"

"Well you know the answer to the first part if you think about it. And to the second one, I would suggest keeping the balance in the wizarding world is a good motive, while keeping your existence a secret to the majority." Merlin said.

Harry walked up the chests and started to mentally make a list of what would be useful.

"Well two items would definitely be the Firebolt I once owned, and my invisibility cloak." Harry took the items out of the chests. "Now how can I live for 1000 years…Ah. The Philosopher's Stone!"

"Good idea kid, but you never technically owned one."

"Uhg, how else can I live for that long?" Harry asked, put out. He had yet to realize the actual scope of what was happening to him.

"Think about it, you have the answer already."

Harry thought long and hard. He was playing with the invisibility cloak in his hand. The invisibility cloak! "The Hallows! I can become the master of death!"

"Right you are kid. You own all three." Merlin said.

"The wand, how?"

"The wand has the stigma of being unbeatable. However, it does have the unique property of changing allegiances when it is defeated. The term 'defeated' can be interpreted in a few ways, but understanding the magic behind it is not important. Draco Malfoy became the master of the wand when he disarmed Dumbledore at the end of your sixth year. And you disarmed Draco just recently. It is yours now."

"That does not make sense…"

"Such is the nature of old artifacts such as these Hallows. Such powerful artifacts are hard to understand for the everyday witch or wizard..."

Harry grinned after a few seconds. "Very well, I require the Resurrection Stone and the Elder Wand!" He grabbed the two items from the chests.

"Now three more items that will be useful to me…Hmmm, if I am going to be potentially destroying Horcruxes for 1000 years, I'm going to need the Sword of Godric Gryffindor!" He pulled the sword from the chest.

"So be it. There will now be two of those swords in the world. However as this sword is going to be yours, I suggest we change the name on it. You will need a new name, as you can't be known has Harry James Potter. The Potter family is old, and it would not be good for you to suddenly appear with the same surname and be a complete unknown."

Harry nodded, and thought long and hard on what he wanted to be called. He was having fresh start at life, a clean slate, prophecies be damned. Heck, he probably would forget all about his love for Ginny in a few years, if not months. There was no way he was going to wait 1000 years. No, he would find someone to love for the 1000 year journey, he couldn't do it alone. If there was one thing he learned in his previous life, it is okay to ask for help.

Harry, still unsure exactly what was happening, or where he was, or where he was going, started thinking of all the different names he might want to be remembered for all eternity as. Anything was better than 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'. He started thinking of all the fantasy novel heroes he read about when he was younger; books he borrowed from the public school library.

"Gandalf Greyhame, or Mithrandir!" Harry exclaimed.

Merlin shook his head while rolling his eyes. "Sorry kid, that person actually existed."

Harry was astonished. "Really?"

"Yes. In a different time, and in a different plane, I was once known by that name."

Harry was a loss for words at this revelation. "And the other characters from the Lord of the Rings?"

"No."

"How about from the Forgotten Realms?" Harry asked. Harry remembered reading a lot of books from the fantasy world. He remembered dreaming about the possibilities of magic powers. He laughed at that memory.

"Anyone but Elminster Aumar."

"You again?"

"Right in one kid."

Harry again thought long and hard of a character persona that would fit him for his new purpose in life. He sighed when he couldn't think of one. "Maybe I will just stick with Harry Potter…"

"No, no, if you can't think of one, I will. You seemed to have an interested in magical fantasy worlds, so that is what I shall use.

Merlin thought for a long time, it could have been hours or days, but time was irrelevant where they were. Harry was unsure how long it was before the man before him - Merlin himself, according to the man, spoke up and said. "I got one."

Merlin didn't seem like elaborating so Harry sighed and asked, "Well?"

"Artemis Entreri."

Harry pondered the name for a few minutes. "Hmm, it's alright. I don't ever recall there being a real Entreri family. Better than anything I could come up with at least."

"Correct, and that is why it will work."

Harry picked up the Sword of Godric Gryffindor – no, the Sword of Artemis Entreri. He saw his new name appear in wispy black letters up the side.

Merlin spoke up. "You can change that sword into whatever shape you want. It has very powerful magic in it."

Harry nodded his head. "Well I guess I should think about the last two items I want to take back with me."

After a few minutes, Harry came up with a cunning idea. "I want my gold from my trust vault. I never got a chance to claim my family vault yet, so I don't technically own that one.

"Very smart." Merlin said. "100 galleons would be considered a large fortune back then, and you got a lot more than that. I'm sure the interest that gold will get over 1000 years will be nice. Gringotts, of course, has been around for many thousands of years."

Harry nodded his head. "One more item. I will need some knowledge to survive. How can I get knowledge? Hmmm, I do own some books, but I need something broader…hmmm…maybe…The Black Family Library?"

Merlin nodded his head. "Yes you do own the library, and I assume you want the books from before they were destroyed?"

Harry nodded his head, and grabbed a box from inside the last chest. Inside the box were hundreds of books, if not thousands.

"Very well. That knowledge is not going to be as good as you hope, but that was your choice. I will tell you a few things before I send you off. You will find some things in time, no matter how hard you try, just cannot be altered. Some events will play out the same, regardless of what you do. However, seeing as you know next to nothing about history, you will really only notice anything of the sort during your own timeframe. Needless to say, you have a long time to wait until then."

Harry nodded his understanding.

Merlin continued. "You will find that everything you take back with you will also still exist in your world, since all of your stuff is from a different plane of existence. That also includes you. Harry James Potter will be born in this world still. You will see your old friends one day in the future, but there is little you can do about it. The world does not revolve around you, but your actions can affect the development of society. Tread carefully"

"Oh, and I have something for your journey." He handed Harry an ordinary looking, inconspicuous bag. "It is a true bottomless bag. It can hold anything, and I mean anything in any amount. You could build a house in there if you really wanted to…Of course it's made so only you can open it, and it cannot be forcefully removed from your body. I am not completely heartless, so I have also bestowed you with the ability to fit in during the time as well."

Harry nodded once again and put his items in the bag.

"Are you ready?" Merlin asked. Harry nodded his head. Words were lost to him as his mind could not comprehend what was happening.

"Then heed these words carefully. You are and always will be Harry Potter, deep down inside. Never forget yourself, never forget your morals, and never forget your past. They mean more to you than any name, for they make up who you are."

Merlin snapped his fingers and Harry disappeared in a flash of smoke.

"Maybe this time this Harry will actually pull through," Merlin muttered to himself.

* * *

_**Author's notes**_

_Harry Potter will always be Harry potter. It doesn't matter what people call him, whether it is "boy-who-lived" "freak" "Artemis Entreri" "Scar Head," he will always know himself as Harry Potter._

_And for those not keeping track, here is the list of Items Harry takes with him_ _1: His firebolt broom_ _2: The Elder Wand_ _3: The Resurrection Stone_ _4: The Cloak of Invisibility_ _5: Sword of Godric Gryffindor_ _6: Potter trust vault gold- several thousand galleons_ _7: The Black Family Library_


	2. Hogwarts, circa 996

Disclaimer: I own none of this, The HP universe and character was created by JKR.

* * *

Hogwarts, circa 996

Harry landed on a dirt path, face down. He slowly regained his footing and brushed off the dirt before taking stock of his surroundings.

"Damn he wasn't kidding when I would only arrive with my possessions!"

Harry was completely naked. He noticed he didn't even have his holly wand. He also noticed that he didn't need his glasses anymore; his vision was fixed. It is also worth mentioning his English accent was different, more… original. He wasn't sure if that was the right word, as he found himself speaking what seemed to be an entirely different language than he remembered, but he understood it and spoke it flawlessly regardless. He probably would not even have noticed the difference if it were not for his past experience with parseltongue.

Thinking quickly, Harry went into his bottomless bag and pulled his Cloak of Invisibility over himself. He then remembered that he didn't need his holly wand, he had the elder wand! "Well one of them at least," he chuckled to himself. He was starting to realize that this was not a joke and he actually was 1000 years out of his element.

Harry took out the wand, and thought about conjuring an outfit. However he had no clue what the style was for the era. He cast a quick "_tempus_" spell. Words flew out of his wand tip similar to what Tom Riddle did in the chamber of secrets. The magic formed the words "12:05 PM, August 3, 996" in the air. It wasn't exactly 1000 years in the past, but that was a minor detail. Harry kept his cloak on and decided to follow the path. He hoped he could find a village for food and shelter, and hopefully to discover what he should be dressed in. He wanted to figure out his next course of action over a nice cup of tea.

The environment around him was nothing like he expected. The vast majority of Britain's trees had not yet been harvested, but a nearby grove did look to have significant burn damage, as if a battle had been fought there recently. In all actuality, one probably did. He could see charred ground, and there was a faint lingering smell of well cooked meat.

His first instinct was to check it out, but he decided against it. It was completely possible that there were enemies still lurking about. He did not want to get involved in another conflict so soon especially without knowing a single thing about where he was, let alone what kind of enemies would be roaming the lands assuming he was even in his homeland.

Harry walked for 3 hours and still saw no signs of settlement. Harry decided he was going to try apparition, but he had to think of a place that would exist in this time. "Hogwarts, surely, but I'm not ready to go there yet. Hmmm…" Harry started to think of the shops in Diagon Alley. "OH! Ollivander's; Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC." Harry immediately apparated to the shop.

Amazingly enough the shop looked _exactly_ the same as it does in his original time. Harry looked around and saw that Gringotts was also the same as ever. Other than those two buildings, the alley was a lot different. There was no cobblestone, it was only dirt. Dirt was everywhere in fact, and the stench was quite bad in some places. And there weren't a lot of stores. It was more like an open marketplace with a lot of traders trying to peddle their wares from ramshackle buildings or carts. It seemed to all be magical in nature, but he was unsure of the relationship between the muggles and wizarding in this time. Harry decided to enter the wand makers shop first.

Harry immedietly noticed that Ollivander himself also looked exactly the same as the one from his time. Boxes lined the walls, much lick the future, all made of wood. Their bore no labels, but Ollivander knew what every single wand in his shop was made of. Ollivander spoke up first.

"Ah Artemis, I was wondering how long it would be before I saw you here. Impressive it only took you three hours," He said.

"What!" Harry was seriously confused. "How?"

Ollivander just smiled and waited for Harry to figure it out.

"Oh! You are Merlin!" Harry yelled.

"Keep your voice down boy!" Ollivander hushed.

"I knew there was something odd about you the day I first met you. This explains a lot!" Harry exclaimed.

"Keep your voice down! Don't draw attention to yourself. I know you seek answers, but you must first seek your own path in this world. However, always know that I am watching." He said and disappeared into the back of his shop.

Harry made his way out. Harry completely forgot that he was still wearing his invisibility cloak and nothing else. "That tricky old man…" Harry grumbled. He looked around and saw what the locals were wearing, and conjured something similar. It was simple really, not too different than what he expected the muggles of the area to be wearing. Just some cloth pants and a tunic. He attached his sword in a similar style as the locals as well, for they had both wands and swords.

He was starving so he went over to a decent sized pavilion. There was a bar set up on one side, and there was a fire pit with a large boar slowly roasting. He went up to the lady he guessed was the proprietor, or wife of the proprietor. She greeted him "Welcome, how may I serve you."

"Whatever is on hand, and something to wash it down." Harry placed a galleon on the table. The lady's eyes widened, and she quickly ran off to fulfill the order.

She came back with a large plate full of meat, he couldn't tell what it was, but it looked and smelled good. She also poured a large glass of some sort of alcohol. She paid him back his change; 16 sickles and 26 knuts. He smiled to himself. The meal cost him a total of 3 knuts. 1 galleon could probably feed him for the whole year. He ate the meal like he hadn't eaten in weeks. He couldn't identify what the drink was, the only alcohol he has had before was Firewhiskey. It would probably be referred to as ale by the locals. Either way it went good with the meal.

Harry left and decided to explore the alley more. He saw many clothing racks, armor stalls, and weapon vendors. There was no sign of the actual blacksmiths that these items came from, but he suppose that that could be expected from a populated area like that. He also saw people selling produce of course. He saw a few tables of apothecary supplies, cauldrons and ingredients and the like. He saw broom vendors, but he knew his Firebolt was leagues ahead of those sticks. On second glance, they could have just been a standard broom stick maker, and not the flying kind. He saw book and scroll traders that he wanted to check out later. Harry decided to make his way up to Gringotts before he did anything else.

The inside was ornate, much like the future, but there was much more evidence of their bloody past. He went up the nearest Goblin. "I would like to open an account. Highest security available."

The goblin scrutinized him for a few moments. Harry slid a galleon onto the desk. The goblins eyes lit up "Very well my lord! I will get you the paperwork. The minimum deposit for a high security vault is 50 sickles." Harry nodded and the goblin came back 5 minutes later with a parchment form.

There wasn't much to read and fill out. He noticed that he was using a blood quill, but understood the purpose of it in this application. The form was only a means of identification as the goblins did not care about any extraneous information such as his past.

"Very well…Artemis Entreri." the goblin said looking at the papers "These seem to be in order. I will take you to your new vault."

They got in a very rickety mine cart which looked like it had seen actual use quite recently. It was not long before the ride started to seem like it went of forever. Nothing was the same as he remembered it from his original time, but he surmised he could be in a different part of the mine. Eventually they arrived at his new vault, number 7. He laughed at the irony.

"Vault number 7, Artemis Entreri, personal vault." The goblin announced. "The bank will be bringing a dragon down here to guard it once we leave."

They entered the vault. Naturally there was nothing in it. "The vault can be expanded as needed" the goblin explained.

Harry reached into his moleskin bag, and pulled out another space-defying bag. He turned it upside down and galleons started to pour out. The goblin was in absolute shock.

"By the graces of Ragnuk, I did not think there was even half that much gold in the entirety of the world!"

"I assure you, my good goblin, that this is all legitimate Goblin gold". Harry said. He pulled out his wand and started to stack the coins. "I would like to assign a goblin advisor sometime in the future." And with that they sealed the vault and took the cart back up to the surface. The goblin went to inform his superiors of what just happened. Harry went back into the alley to continue with his exploring.

Harry noticed a wall that looked to have a bunch of leaflets and advertisements, if they could even be describe as such. They were very crude and used as little words as possible, instead using pictures and numbers. He saw advertisement for Hogwarts hanging up. It looked like it was only in its third year of operating. Harry mused with the idea of getting a job there.

"I could hold a post for 1000 years," he laughed to himself. Luckily no one heard him.

He quickly scanned through the advertisements pinned to the wall and saw what he was looking for; property trade. He glanced through them, there were buildings, and there was also empty land. One of the sales quickly caught his attention; 5760 acres. Harry tried to do the math on this large number. He came up with about 9 square miles, or a 3 mile diameter lot of land. Exactly what he needed. He looked at the sale price: 17 galleons. Harry was shocked at the price, not for the time, and not for the last time. His money would carry him far.

He was momentarily surprised by who was selling the land; Godric Gryffindor, or at least someone in the family because the Gryffindor crest was on the paper. "Looks like I am going to visit Hogwarts sooner than I thought." Harry sighed to himself. He briefly wondered if there was even a Ministry of Magic at this point in time. Hermione would surely know the answer, but Harry could only barely remember something about localized governments. He figured that the wizards probably weren't worried about secrecy until the crusades came around. He had 100 years until then.

Harry quickly apparated to the Hogwarts grounds. He should probably be more careful; he was new to this world and didn't even know if apparation was standard back then. He noticed the castle was the same as ever, except everything was a lot cleaner. The castle was a bright alabaster, not the dull grey that he remembered. The castle was strange in that it was the first entirely stone structure he had seen so far as Diagon Alley was mostly all wood. The forbidden forest was a lot bigger, and there was no Quidditch pitch. He wasn't even sure if anyone would be here as school wasn't in session. He walked up to the great doors and knocked. He waited for about 5 minutes before the doors opened. He saw the great hall; it was like he remembered it except there was only 2 tables and no head table.

He was greeted by a handsome looking man. He had blonde hair, and well defined muscles. He had a sword on his waist, he noticed its familiarity. "Ah, just the man I wanted to see, Godric Gryffindor."

"I am afraid you have me at a loss?" Godric said, but he held out his hand.

"The name is Artemis Entreri." Harry said, shaking the hand.

"How may I be of service?"

"I wish to purchase your land located 100 miles northwest of London. 5760 acres."

"Oh finally! I have been trying to trade the land all summer. We here at the castle are running low on funds, most of our personal fortunes went to building it." Godric said.

"I have the money right now. Will you show me?"

Godric nodded and motioned towards the fireplace. He walked over and reached into a pot for floo powder. He called out "Godric's Glen!" and disappeared. Harry quickly followed.

They emerged inside a small hut that served as a caretakers shed. It was the only building on the property. He saw that the property was a large valley, with a river flowing through it. It was mostly forest, but there was also a lake. The lake was almost a perfect circle. "Very nice, I'll take it."

Godric was surprised that this man who was dressed like a peasant didn't even try to haggle, and came to a decision so quick. "Very well, I will gather the details."

15 minutes later Harry was reading over the deed to the property, with the seal of the King and Gryffindor's stamped in wax. He quietly paid the man who was looking quite happy with his 17 galleons. "I don't suppose you know where I could by a large amount of raw material to construct a house with?"

"Well if you need a large amount of anything, I would say the goblins." Godric said. "They have lots of contacts."

Harry feared as much, but just nodded his head. "What can you tell me about your school? How many students, and what is the required age? What is taught?"

"Well we don't teach anyone younger than 11, but anyone older can come. You start off in a first year, but you can skip years if you are proficient. I teach transfiguration. Helga teaches potions, Salazar teaches charms and Rowena teaches runes. We have 37 students registered for the upcoming year, with 16 of those being new."

Harry again nodded his head. He noticed there was no specific defense against the dark arts, maybe that was a new course at Hogwarts to deal with the dark lord problems? Harry hasn't heard about any evil wizards yet. Although he remembered that Salazar would eventually become that evil wizard.

"Are you hiring?"

This got Godric's attention. "We aren't planning on it, but the four of us would have to talk about it. What would you teach?"

"Magical Defense," responded Harry.

Godric gave him a scrutinizing look. 'This kid looks pretty young, not even twenty. I am the best fighter here…' he thought to himself. "We will set up a meeting to discuss it." Godric said. He would reserve judgment. "Bring an overview of what you would like to teach."

"I will contact you when we are ready." Godric said and flooed out.

Harry immedietly cursed himself for his abruptness. "I should have thought this through! Typical Gryffindor brashness." He looked around at the heavily wooded land. "Going to have to get working on a house..."


	3. The Founders

The Founders

Harry stood on rock overlooking his property, figuring out his priorities. He liked his large circle lake. He would definitely have to do something with it. He was getting visions of grandeur and Isengard in his head, but something like that would take years to build. Luckily Harry had many years to do it. In the mean time he would settle for building a house on the rock he was currently standing on. He thought about what Godric told him about the goblins. Essentially they can get you anything "for a price."

Harry didn't want to buy material objects from the goblins; he learned the hard way about what they consider "ownership" and "renting". No, Harry would buy something more valuable than materialistic goods; information. Goblins can get information on anything. Harry would buy information on where he can find the Dwarven race. From what Harry recalled from his original timeline, Dwarves haven't made human contact in over 1700 years, or 700 years where he is now. That doesn't mean the goblins don't know where they are, presumable hundreds of miles below ground. If Harry was going to have something grand built, he wanted the best workers. However, for his small tower, he would hire some muggles. Stone castles were becoming quite popular even if most structures were still built of wood. If he got a job at Hogwarts, he presumed he would be living there and fed, so that gave plenty of time for the construction.

That led him on a similar tangent of thought. He didn't need to work for money, but again there are some things worth more than money, and that is knowledge. He would work for knowledge. Harry only has 6 years of formal learning and he was rubbish at most things that weren't combat oriented. Sadly that came as a necessity more than choice.

Harry spent most of the week in Diagon Alley, taking some time getting a contractor for hiring workers, but mostly just waiting for Godric to show up for his future interview. He did show up eventually while Harry was eating at one of the pavilions, and they promptly took the floo to Hogwarts. He saw the three other founders waiting at a table in the great hall.

Godric motioned for him to sit down. Harry did, and promptly introduced himself. "Artemis Entreri." He shook hands with each founder. He was in awe of just being in the same century as the legends, let alone in the same room and shaking hands.

"Salazar Slytherin." Harry noticed the man's features. He looked to be young 30's. Dark brown hair. Brown eyes. He spoke with great care, almost as if he was trying to say what you wanted to hear, but mean something else entirely. There was no coldness in his voice, but he was not as cheerful as Godric. He didn't look too evil yet, but you could feel that he had started the path. Of course he was wearing black and green clothing, but it wasn't robes. It was a tabard with his family crest on it. He was wearing it over some sort of armor that Harry couldn't identify. There as a sword at his waist next to his wand.

"Godric Gryffindor." He introduced himself formerly. Harry looked over his features again, wearing a similar outfit to Salazar, except in his colors. Also had his sword at his side, and also looked to be the same age. They were probably friends judging by how comfortable they seemed to be around each other.

"Helga Hufflepuff." Harry was expecting her to look like Professor Sprout (old and fat), but he was wrong. She was mildly attractive for the time, with curly yellow hair. Her voice was firm and authoritative, but not entirely unpleasant. She was wearing something akin to wizards robe, but yet still different. She looked to be late twenties but he couldn't be sure. Something in her brown eyes shone of hardship and hard work to get where she was today.

"Rowena Ravenclaw" Harry shook her hand and immedietly felt something off with his magic. It was as if it was reaching out to her. An odd look came across her pretty face but she did not comment on it. It was the same feeling that you get when you pick your wand up after a long time of disuse- it sings to you. It was not entirely unpleasant.

Harry looked at her. She was in her twenties, probably slightly older than Tonks, around 25. Straight Black Hair, blue eyes. Her voice was pleasant, although she seemed unsure of herself. She was very attractive, and she looked very intelligent. She was wearing an outfit that Harry could nickname a "sorceress robe". It wasn't outlandish like what wizards wore in his time, but it was something akin to what a scholar would wear from the muggle king's court. It was a friendly blue color, and was somewhat loose and gave hints at an ample surprise if you had a good imagination. He forced his eyes to not wander- he didn't want to make a bad first impression.

"Tell us what you would like to teach." Helga asked.

"Magical defense; Learning about ways to protect yourself from spells and creatures."

Salazar spoke up. "How can a kid as young as yourself be qualified to teach this?"

Harry was expecting something like this. "In my home country I was hunted by evil wizards for the last 7 years of my life. I finally defeated their leader, and decided I needed a more peaceful life so I came here. I know a lot of combat and defensive magic as well as tactics. However I am lacking in all the other magical areas. That is why I am not going to ask for payment in money, but rather knowledge."

Rowena smiled at the mention of seeking knowledge. "Did you make a list of topics you wish to cover in this class?"

Harry nodded and handed her a piece of parchment. Harry spent the better part of the last week researching to see if the spells he wanted to teach are known yet, luckily most of them were, but a few would probably be new to the founders. He also did research on creatures that have been a nuisance in this time period. Most of the creatures would rank as level 2 or 3 creatures according to his ministries list of dangerous creatures.

"Hmmm, very interesting. A few of these spells I don't recognize, but their Latin translation is pretty obvious. However I can't say that I've had much experience fighting other wizards, the clan wars were about 15 years ago, I was too young but Godric and Salazar got some experience… "

Godric spoke up. "Yes I did get some combat experience, but to be fair, most of us are probably better trained swordsmen than combat duelers. Formal dueling and true combat are very different. Even I would be interested in learning combat magic."

"I will teach you what I know about combat magic if you teach me swordsmanship. I do have a sword, but I have only recently picked up the art." Harry said.

"Fair enough." Godric said. Harry could already see Salazar plotting something in his head.

They negotiations went on for about another hour. Harry got the job, and they worked out a schedule. He would be at the school for September first, about a week away.

He wandered down to Hogsmeade. It was still an all wizarding town, but much smaller. Perhaps smaller wasn't the word, but there was less consumer shops. There was no joke shop, tea shop, quill shop, sweet shop or post office. Harry could see a lot of farmland though. Presumably most people farmed, fought, or were servants. Craftsmen, traders, and scholars were in the minority. The Three Broomsticks wasn't there yet, but surprisingly The Hogshead was. It looked to be the place to be, so he headed towards it.

Harry walked inside and noticed the décor was exactly the same as it was 1000 years from now. The only difference was that it didn't look out of place like he remembered, the tankards were clean, and the food smelt delicious. Harry quickly paid 2 knuts for his meal, and a 5 knuts for rooming for a week.

Harry spent the majority of the week researching recent history. He learned that magical communities are self-governed, although there is a sort of council set up to judge over the isles, somewhat like a smaller Wizengamot.

He also came to the conclusion that the wizarding world has been in a sort of stagnancy for about 200 years, just like his original time. Magic users are getting weaker, and knowledge is being lost and forgotten. But with the opening of Hogwarts the stagnancy should be coming to an end and a new era beginning. However it would be a generation before the effects are felt. In the mean time he was reading through scholarly scrolls on the state of the world and it was pretty sad. Warding was nearly a lost art, and apparition was apparently very rare, and whoever could do it was considered extremely powerful. Harry would summarize that the vast majority of magic users would have an equivalent of a third year magical knowledge. Families aren't doing their jobs of passing down knowledge and communities aren't intermingling as much. It has started to get to the point where wizards would rather bring their arcane knowledge to the grave rather than pass it down, no matter how trivial the knowledge was.

Harry sat down at a table, and about 5 minutes later he saw a pretty young girl walk in. He then noticed it was Rowena and he quickly waved her over. She smiled and nodded and made her way to his table. Harry quickly paid for her meal without saying anything. He noticed that something was troubling her.

"Something wrong?" Harry inquired.

"It's just… Salazar." She said. "He can be a right ass sometimes, always spewing out his bigoted views. Sometimes I think he just says the stuff as a joke, but other times I can tell he is quite serious. He is always going on about how pureblooded magic users are the only ones who should be taught. You don't believe in that do you?"

"No I don't, I myself am half." Harry said.

Rowena nodded and continue. "I personally have done research into the matter. The Earth itself is the one who chooses who to endow a person with a magical core, connecting the individual with magic."

"Magical Core?" Harry asked. He had not heard that phrase before.

"Humans are magical creatures, just like a unicorn, or a centaur. While I doubt anything short of our blood could be used as a wand focus, our core is simply our reserves from which we harness our magical power. It is a part of you, but does not have any physical embodiment." Rowena answered his question before continuing her monologue. "It is completely random, but it is what a person does with his core that determines how strong he is. If a person trains his magic, he becomes stronger. If he does not train his magic, it remains stagnant. Everyone who is born magical, essential has the same power. There is an exception though."

Harry noticed that she went into "Hermione mode," except he noticed that he didn't mind it. Her voice was very beautiful. He found himself unconsciously smiling at her while she talked.

"There are millions of nonmagicals out there, and only a few thousand users. Exceptionally powerful magic users are born when the earth decides to bestow a magical core on an individual who already has a magical core, which would be purebloods or halfbloods. However since we are outnumbered 1000 to 1 here on the isle, that is approximately the odds of a person being born with a supercharged magical core. Merlin would fall under such a category, although he far surpassed the power even a fully trained user with a double core would become. There are 3 such people on the isle right now, but they are all elders. Salazar is not one of these people."

Harry soaked up this information. This was all new to him. Why hadn't he heard of such a thing in his timeframe? It was obvious that Dumbledore could be one of these powerful people, or was it his wand? No, Dumbledore was very powerful regardless of the Elder Wand. Voldemort was also a very powerful wizard regardless of whatever dark rituals he did. Harry began thinking of other people who could have the doubled magical core. He then came to a realization that most wizards of his time were not very strong at all, so if he were to compare people to someone like Arthur Weasley- a nice guy, but mediocre power wise, he could probably come up with more names.

He came to the conclusion pretty quickly that he was probably a doublecore individual, who inherited even more magic from Voldemort. So if Harry was a doublecore with addition of Voldemort's essence, Dumbledore was a doublecore with addition of the elder wand, and Voldemort was a double core with addition to many dark rituals, the bar is set a lot lower. People like Amelia Bones and Alastor Moody were very powerful people in their own rights, and were probably doublecore. Harry began thinking about the Death Eaters. Bellatrix wasn't overly powerful, just very insane and experienced. The only Death Eater that Harry would think of powerful enough would be Antonin Dolohov. Harry didn't know enough about the first war, but he hear stories of Fabian and Gideon Prewett that could be assigned as they both having doublecores. His father and Neville's parents were probably normal. Perhaps he was just mistaking skill with power, because there is no point in having power if you don't have the skill to utilize it.

Rowena seemed to be staring at Harry with a grin on her face, and Harry snapped out of it. Food arrived 5 minutes ago while he was lost in thought. "I was thinking about what you said, and it explains a whole lot. I was thinking about some people from my homeland and who might have had two.

She nodded. "I have put a lot of thought into it, to make Salazar see reason, but he is just so stubborn. I can't help wonder if he is planning something sinister, but he has been my friend for so long."

"When I was at my interview, I could almost sense that he was plotting something, and when I shook his hand, I could feel the darkness boiling underneath. It was unpleasant."

She nodded sadly this time. "I know he has been dabbling in rituals, but I fear that he is doing the unforgivable and using innocent sacrifices for his "research" as he calls it. That is a big difference between him and I. I study magical theory, and he puts practical uses to it, but usually only the more gruesome ideas." She took a breath. "The clan wars… they affected him badly. He saw things no young man should see. His family… No, it is not my story to tell. He has a lot of darkness in his past. It is not his fault he grew up into the man he is now. He is a victim of the times like many others, he has just been more… proactive as a result"

"The man is no saint, that much is clear." Harry paused for a second. As much as he wanted to learn of Salazar's dark past (as he figured it was probably far worse than his own) he would rather hear about something more interesting. "Is there a test that one can do to discover if a person has an altered magical core?"

"Yes there is. It's a simple diagnostic spell that healers use to determine magical exhaustion." She said. Harry was blindsided by this answer. If his suspicions were correct, that Madam Pomfrey probably knew about his special core. "Do you want me to perform it on you?"

"You can. I am a bit curious, myself, but I'm afraid to say that I am most likely a doublecore individual. However you have to promise not to share the results with anyone else." Harry said.

She nodded her head and performed the spell. Whatever either one of them was expecting, it was not this. Harry's magical aura flared briefly in a golden color when she did the spell. "Well I must say I am a bit surprised. Gold is a color that I have never seen before. Blue is a standard core, with light colors meaning a stronger core. Red is a doublecore, with lighter colors being stronger. Merlin himself was said to have an orange core. I would say that the only thing gold could mean is that your core connected to an external source, perhaps the Earth itself. I know not. And you don't seem surprised at this?"

"I expected I was at least a doublecore. I am not willing to say much more than that since we have only just met, but I have a feeling that we will be seeing a lot more of each other…"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Remember when I shook your hand?"

"Yeah. It was weird, I felt foreign magic, but I felt strangely content."

"It was the same feeling I that I remember when I got my wand."

"That would suggest that our magics are very similar, not power-wise, but… I don't know how to describe what I'm thinking." She frowned.

Harry had an idea of some phrases that might match what she is looking for, but the terms frequency and wavelength wouldn't be around for centuries. "I think… our magic…flows the same? It's hard to describe but I think I know what you are trying to say."

"Magical flow seems to fit. It's almost like magic crawling across a spider web… If my hunch is right, I should be able to use your wand just as good as my own."

Harry handed his wand to her without hesitation, and he took hers. They both gave the wands a wave and conjured flowers. They both laughed at the identical gesture.

"Your wand actually works better than mine. What is the core?" Rowena asked.

"I'm not sure. I can tell yours isn't the same, but I don't know what." He wasn't surprised that the Elder Wand worked for her, it was an extremely potent wand. He didn't know what the core was made of though.

"Sphinx tail." She said matter-of-factly.

Harry was half-expecting to hear raven's claw, but a sphinx made the most sense in the world.

"So what exactly does this mean?"

"Not much really. Maybe a few uses in benign rituals, enchanting, warding, or alchemy…"

Harry shrugged it off. He knew nothing about any of those. "No big deal I suppose. It is interesting though." He didn't explain any further. He wondered if it had anything to do with the hallows, or with his time-travel, or his surviving the killing curse… or any number of special circumstances that seem to apply only to him. Chances are that at least one part of his unique background is responsible.

Rowena seemed distracted but Harry didn't notice. She was probably thinking of possible causes, or any reported cases of similar occurrences in history.

"Hey Rowena?"

"Yes?"

"Would you like to retreat to my property with me for dinner? If we are to be colleagues, I would like to get to know you better. Perhaps tomorrow night? I would very much like to hear more of your magical theory," Harry bravely asked. He was silently cursing his tendencies that some would classify as quintessentially Gryffindor. He was rubbish with girls, but who isn't? He wasn't even sure how dating even worked in this century, but he did know enough to be very careful with his wording. He had not asked to court or date her, nor even friendship. He wanted to learn more about her to see if a friendship could be possible. The four founders appeared to be a very tight group of friends, and he was intruding on them. He had to figure out where he would fit in at Hogwarts as the fifth wheel.

Rowena thought about it for a few seconds. "Okay." She was thinking about their magical connectivity, but that only made the man in front of her more intriguing.

There was just something about the man that screams power, yet he was only 18. He also had an air of mystery about him. It was like he had seen too much death in action in very little time. If only she knew how close her guess was.

Harry spent the next day planning for the dinner. He would pick her up at Hogwarts and take her to his property. He conjured a giant floating lily pad in the middle of his lake, and set up a table on it. He didn't know any house elves, or even if they were forced into servitude yet, so he had to do the cooking himself, which if he was honest with himself, enjoyed. He created a fire pit right on the water and would do the roasting right there. They would eat lighter fare before then.

He was going to break one of his rules he set up for himself regarding the altering of the timeline. Harry was going to introduce Rowena to pizza. He got lamb from a butcher, but getting the other ingredients was hard. Hell, tomatoes didn't even exist in England yet, but a little bit of conjuring and fake taste would go unnoticed by her. The problem with conjuring food is that it has no actual sustenance or nutritional value, but the Elder Wand did a very convincing job. He didn't have a brick oven to make the pizza, but he did have the next best thing; magic. It wasn't going to be a large pizza, just an appetizer to go with a salad. Harry knew that modern pizza wouldn't be invented for another 900 years, and he planned to keep it that way. This was going to be their secret, the first of many he hoped.

Harry arrived at Hogwarts via apparition, and surprised the heck out of Rowena. "Wow Artemis, nearly gave me heart failure there. What did you do?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at this. "It's called apparating where I come from, it's nearly instantaneous travel if you know the location you want to go to. "

"That's apparating? I've only read about it… The only way I travel is floo and broomstick. You will have to teach me!" She said almost begging.

"I suspect there are many things I know that have not been seen here. However you are the most brilliant witch around, so instead of teaching you, I will help you research the theory behind it. How's that sound? " Not his ideal first date, but if that's what she is interested in, then fine by him. "This is how it feels," Harry grabbed her and side-alonged her to the lily pad.

"Wow, it felt like I was being squeezed together." Rowena marveled.

"Essentially, you were. The way I learned it pretty much just brute forces our way through the air, and that makes the loud bang when you arrive. There are probably other, quieter ways to do it, but I haven't been doing it long enough to feel comfortable messing around with it. If you are not careful you might leave a body part behind."

She looked aghast at that, but you could already tell she was thinking up a theory in her mind. She was much like Hermione, but without all the bossiness, and didn't label the world as white and black, just good and evil like he does. She was also a lot smarter than Hermione (and a lot prettier). Hermione surrounded herself in books because she had trouble making friends. Rowena didn't drown herself in books, she wrote them. She thinks her ideas through in her head, and writes them down until she gets it right. Her mind worked in ways that Harry couldn't yet comprehend.

He was attracted to her, no doubt about that. He could hold an intelligent conversation with her (even if it was a one sided conversation), and she wouldn't make him feel stupid. She had a great laugh, is fun to just be around, and she was beautiful. Plus she didn't know that Harry was once famous. She would become great without Harry's help, but together they could be a force to be reckoned with. Harry was willing to put the effort in.

They sat down at the floating table. She was genuinely surprised at the setting, and enjoyed it. She loved the pizza, claiming she never had anything like it before, and she liked the lamb too. Harry was secretly impressed with his food as well, and he was actually looking forward to the pizza because he rarely ate it back in how own time.

They talked for a long time, eventually Rowena got curious about the mysterious man in front of her. "I can tell you are more than meets the eye, very much so. Care to share?"

Harry sighed. "There is a lot about me that I can't share, not yet. However in the future I might have to. I have some…prophetic sort of memories. I know when the Unity of the Founders will fall apart… only then will you be privy to some of my secrets. However, I do have something I can tease your thirst for knowledge with. What do you know about the Peverell Brothers?"

"I have heard the names of course, as probably everybody has, but I never thought the tale anything more than a myth."

"You can find the answer if you look hard enough. However do not share with anyone about this. I have much knowledge that cannot fall into the wrong hands."

Rowena nodded, her thoughts racing fast. 'Is this man a seer? The Founders of Hogwarts are going to fall apart? Probably due to Salazar… Where does the tale of the three brothers fall into all of this? And his magic seems to draw right from the earth, he has more potential than anyone she had ever met, but he lacks the knowledge. He seemed human, yet more than human at the same time, like a class above.'

All in all the dinner was very enjoyable. She agreed to another dinner before school was supposed to start. The term date probably could be used, but it didn't feel right.

Harry didn't manage to get into contact with the Goblins regarding the Dwarves yet. He mostly spent his time going over a syllabus for his class. He would teach his class like he remembered Lupin teaching it; a mix of magical creatures and spellwork. He would also have a weekly class to practice different methods of evasion. He toyed around with the idea of holding it like a physical education class but living in this time period it wasn't exactly necessary.

He met once more with the four founders before the start of term. They went over how to take performance evaluations in the form of tests and how to record the wizardling's progress. It was easily done by a number rating system. The first big difference that Harry found out was that there wasn't any house point system yet. In this millennium, learning was its own reward apparently.

Before he knew it, the new school term was upon him. He was slightly nervous, and slightly excited. He knew that he was always modest about everything he did. Everyone in the DA went out of their way to tell him how good of a teacher he was, so hopefully he wouldn't disappoint.

Harry was curious at how the students were going to arrive, seeing how there weren't going to be trains for a long time. His answer was solved when he saw specs on the horizon. It looks like there were people flying in on broom. Looked down towards Hogsmeade, Harry saw Godric leading a group of people that probably arrived by floo up to the castle. He saw the flyers store their brooms in the ancient broom shed that was no longer ancient but brand new. He waited patiently for the students to come through entrance hall.

It was just starting to dawn on him exactly what he has gotten himself in to.


	4. Beginnings

Beginnings

Harry was sitting next to Rowena at their table in the great hall. The students just entered and were going to be introduced. The hall was nicely decorated, but in no particular fashion. The ceiling was enchanted to look like outside, and banners hung from the walls as well. Part of the hall seemed quite empty without several hundred students and extra tables, but large iron braziers spaced every 10 feet did a good job at manipulating the visual space.

Helga stood up holding a list. "I welcome you all to the 4th year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardly. Before we begin I will take roll call."

Helga read down a list of a dozen names. The only surname Harry recognized was Moon, and that was just a vague recollection. This person, however, was very noticeable. She had green hair. Not a bright green either, but a naturalistic green, in many different hues. Harry could almost imagine leaves and twigs and birds in her hair, that's the impression he got. It turns out his instincts were not far off, the young lady known as Silvia Moon was an apprentice druid and was at Hogwarts to learn about traditional wand magics.

Harry was introduced second to last. Apparently he was not the only new staff hiring this year. One of the members of the kitchen staff offered to teach a weekly course of household spells including cooking spells. This emphasized the fact that there were no house elves at Hogwarts yet, or such a thing as a house elf at all. Harry looked up the fact in one of his tomes from the Black library. House elves were not enslaved until 1083, so there are various free elves still in the land such as wild elves and high elves. That date was actually the first reported use of one by a human family, rather than the actual date the first house elf came into existence.

They settled themselves in to eat. Harry noticed that the tables were not magic like he remembered; based off either house elf magic or a variant of apparating. Since neither was used yet, food was served buffet style. The food looked as good as ever; the team of cooks were just as good as the house elves from the future.

Harry wasn't sure exactly what he ate, but it was good. The food was different than what he ate in the future, which was to be expected. He was saddened that there was no treacle tart for desert, or pumpkin juice, but the substitutes were still acceptable.

After the meal was finished Helga stood up again and gave a few 'start of term' notices - just the general rules of Hogwarts and code of conduct. They were dismissed shortly afterwards. Harry made his way up to his living quarters next to his classroom on the 4th floor. It was a pretty large room, and his office was nice as well. He remembered back on what his old DADA professors decorated their rooms with. Sadly he couldn't display any fancy dark detectors and foe glasses since they were not invented yet. He would make do with animals like Lupin, and probably some spell diagrams. Maybe he could find some obscure artifacts he could buy.

Harry did conjure a stand to hold his sword. He used the swords latent magic to form itself into a black and gold longsword, just so it couldn't get confused with Godric's. He decorated his room in a soothing blue and bronze color combination. His bed was fairly large and very soft, far better than what he had in the dorm rooms in the future. There was a hearth in one side of the room that was only connected by floo to the Head office. The lighting, of course, was supplied by magical torches on the wall.

He tried to sleep that night, but he couldn't. It wasn't because he was having nightmares, no, this was solely because of his nervousness about his first day teaching. When he finally fell asleep, he awoke only a few short hours later. He made his way down to the great hall for breakfast, and quickly decided he was going to have to search for a pepper up potion or something equivalent. He didn't find any in the potions lab but he did find the ingredients he would need to brew it himself.

Luckily it was a fairly simple potion and would only take 20 minutes to make 6 vials worth. He drank a vial and decided he was ready to face the day. He quickly toyed with the idea of brewing a bravery potion, but decided it against it. He wanted to make a good impression, but not a false one.

The time finally came for his first class. He was waiting at his teaching station slowly going through his occlumency mind clearing techniques.

Since this was the first year the course was being offered, all the classes would be taught the same material. Next year there will be two levels, and so on. It was obvious to him now in retrospect, because at first he was panicking about coming up with a schedule for many different years. This year there will be 2 classes each composed of 20 students each.

The students started coming in, and once he took roll call he began to explain what the class would cover.

"Hello students, my name is Artemis Entreri, but I would like you all to call me Instructor Entreri. The purpose of this class is all about how do defend yourself with your magic. I will teach you various spells for defense, and a few for offense. I will also show you a few common magical creatures, and for this I am open to suggestions. This class will involve a little background theory, but I feel a hands-on approach is the best approach so we will be doing a lot of practice. At the end of the year I will set up an obstacle course to test you on what you learned here in class. Whoever records the fastest speed will earn a prize that I will determine at a later date."

"Now the first lesson I want to start out on is proper wand care and use. This just doesn't apply to this class. Your wand can be used as a weapon, and you should treat it as such. Treat is like you would a sword." As he said this, he pulled his sword from its sheath and placed it on the table. "They are both very effective weapons. A mundane sword is limited in its use however. You can slice your foe with a sword." He gave a quick slicing motion.

"You can also slice your foe with your wand." Harry pointed his wand at a wooden target on the side of the room. He made a slashing motion "Sectumsempra!" The wooden target got a nasty gouge across the right shoulder.

"You will not be learning that spell this year, so do not get your hopes up. It is very dangerous, but it got my point across. There is another approach we can look at also."

He waved his wand at a long stick he brought. He muttered a few words, and a few second later the transfiguration was complete. It was a very crude looking sword, barely more than a handle and a blade, but it was sufficient. "With your wand, you can make what you need if a spell won't do the trick. This is a transfigured sword, but I only put enough power into the spell to last a day. If you apply enough power you can create it permanently, and that is called conjuration. Transfiguration can be just as useful as direct offensive and defensive spells. If you can master your environment, your opponent is at your mercy. But I am getting ahead of myself. Back to our wand."

"Our wands are very important tools that we use to harness our magic. We do _not_ need our wand to perform magic, but it makes our magic a hundredfold more potent and easier to use. Since it is your primary tool for using your magic, I suggest you treat it with utmost respect and care. Make it a habit of inspecting and cleaning your wand. Dirt on a wand can impede the magic. The wood can also gain small fractures, and explode on you if not maintained. I was once attacked by a main who had a hairline fracture in his wand but he didn't know it. He went to cast a powerful spell at me but the wand exploded in his hand and the wood shards embedded in his arm. Needless to say I won that fight with minimal effort."

He could tell at this point he had the whole class paying very close attention, if they weren't earlier.

"If your wand is damaged, it is possible it can be repaired if it is not too severe. I would not suggest using a broken wand. A close friend of mind once broke his wand. It was beyond repair, but he didn't have enough money to purchase a new wand so he kept on using it. One day a bully was picking on him, so my friend tried to jinx him with a slug vomiting spell, but it backfired and hit himself. It was a very funny sight I will admit, but I was patting his back all day while he puked into a bucket."

He heard a few chuckles at his little anecdote. Thinking about Ron was pretty painful, he knew he would never see him again, but he made his peace before he went into the forest. He thought he was going to die for good then, but the fact that he is alive and they will never see each other again is still a raw point.

"There is another point to that story. That friend broke his wand because he fell on it. It was in his back pocket. Do not keep your wand there, it can get broken, and it is a lesson that you would probably not want to learn the hard way. Now back to the original point; the wand is like a weapon. I store my wand like a weapon. I have on sheath for my wand on my wrist. This one is made simply from leather. I usually keep it charmed to be nearly invisible, but I removed it so you can all see it. I will pass it around the class. You can either purchase one, or make one yourself. It doesn't have to go on your wrist either, you can put it on your thigh or back just like a sword. I find that the wrist is the most convenient spot though, it allows for quicker draws and it is harder to lose track of."

"There are some spells that are suggested for a wand sheath, there is the disillusionment charm which makes it nearly invisible to everyone but the user. There are anti-summoning charms that prevent you from being disarmed. And there are anti-theft charms that make it so no one but you can remove the sheath from your body."

"Now we have that out of the way, so I will give an overview of the spells you can plan on learning about this year and what you can expect in the future. We will start off with a few simple spells that are not directly dangerous, but can be annoying. These will include wobbly-legs jinx, tongue tying curse, the stinging hex, tripping jinx, and the tickling charm. I will also show you how to counter them. In the future we will learn spells such as the stunning charm, cutting curse, blasting curse, and several shield charms. We will learn the basic shield charm next year, and specialized ones after that."

"This week we are going to work on the wobbly-legs jinx. Next week we will take a look at Bowtruckles. They live in forests, and are usually peaceful. However if they feel threatened that can be dangerous, so I will show you how to handle them. Now starting during the second half of this year I will start a weekly survival course to show you can you can survive in the wild with nothing but your wits and your wand. Now if there are no questions, the class is dismissed."

No one asked any questions, they all seemed to be absorbing all the information. They all left with thoughtful looks on their faces. Harry slumped back in his desk after the last student left. He was exhausted, but satisfied. He started off shaky but once he showed the sword-cutting curse he can tell he had the class wrapped around his finger and he was feeling confident. Now he just needed to have a repeat performance in an hour for the other half of the school. Then he would be off for the rest of the day, but he had a private lesson with Godric that night. Tomorrow night would be Helga, the night after Salazar, and the night after that one would be Rowena.

Harry wasn't sure how to pass the time. He didn't have anything to grade. He tried reading a tome, but he kept getting distracted. He was tapping his fingers on table to the tune of the muggle song "Cowboys from Hell" which wouldn't come out for another 986 years. Give or take.

Eventually he got up and picked up the transfigured sword. He placed a sticking charm on it and stuck it to the wood mannequin. He backed up 20 feet and cast a 'sectumsempra' at it. Shockingly, but maybe expected, the spell ricocheted of the sword as if the spell was an actual sword, just invisible. He mused with the idea of tinkering around with the wand movements to see if he could change the spell effects, but he was knocked out of his musing when the next class started to file in.

The class started off much of the same, but he could tell he had a wise ass in the group- a Malfoy type. Harry figured he was probably the son of a Baron, Duke, or some other such noble. Not that Harry cared anything about that sort of stuff, he was going to outlive them all anyways, and he was richer than the whole king's court.

Harry got all the way to the part where he was explaining what spells he was going to be teaching, when he heard a laugh from the back of the room. Sure enough if it was the Malfoyescue kid whose name escaped him at the moment.

"Something funny back there?" Harry asked. Better to put them in their place early before they get too full of themselves.

"Wobbly legs jinx and tongue tying, are you pulling my leg? How will those help me?" The kid snorted, very un-noble like.

"If you are fighting an experience opponent, the use of such childish spells will often be laughed at, such as you are. They will distract them, and they will not bother to block the spells. The spells will hit them and they will be affected. The wobbly legs will severely impede their mobility, and will buy you time while they dispel it. The tongue tying spell will outright botch up their casting. They better hope it wears off quick or they better know how to cast spells silently. Both those spells will give you a big enough advantage to accomplish your goal, either taking your opponent down or falling back. Now I will emphasize right here that every spell I will be teaching you has a purpose. I have seen some of these childish spells can save lives. One of your greatest advantages is when your opponent underestimates you, never forget that."

The class ended on that note, and Harry just relaxed until dinner. Dinner was just as good as the first night, and when it was over, Godric signaled for Harry to follow him into a room.

"I'll teach you what I can about transfiguration in a combat situation. Being able to identify when to use transfiguration, and when to use another spell is very important. I will help you identify weakness in your opponent so you can counter with transfiguration. Before that though, I want to see what you can do. Transfigure me a large chair."

Harry went through the motions. He focused on the rock that Godric held out in his hand. The rock slowly grew and changed into a chair, and when he was done, it was a very large and soft chair, but it was very plain.

"A good start. It is a chair, and it is large. However it lacks detail. The lack of detail indicates to me that you are not focused enough. If you are focusing on individual details, try focusing on the larger whole. Lose sight of the bigger picture or you will lose those details you are so focused on. You really have to want it to change, put all your intent and willpower into it. Do not give your magic any leeway to do what it wants- keep an iron fist on it. Starting with smaller starting objects will increase your strength and power, because it is harder. Conjure me a bronze goblet."

Harry focused on what Godric just said. Intent, will power, and the bigger picture. Harry mentally pictured a bronze goblet in his head to the point where he could imagine the magic swirling in front of him. He could almost taste the magic forming a cup, and he felt the moment was right to force the details on the cup into a phoenix in flight. When he felt his magic complete, he opened his eyes and saw that Godric was already full of pride.

"Wow" was all Harry could say at his goblet. Harry has always been decent at transfiguration, but he was never amazing like his dad supposedly was. Conjuration was another thing all together, he only had some practice with it and the biggest thing he has made was a shoddy wooden chair, but a creating metal is a lot harder, and to put detail into it… Godric managed to teach him a theory that he understood in one minute. McGonagall's theory obviously wasn't working compared to what Godric told him, most of what he transfigured in the past focused on spoken word to make your intent clear. Visualizing it in his mind is what did the trick.

Godric was holding the cup in his hands. "Simply beautiful, I couldn't have done it better myself. I take it by the look on your face that you didn't know you were capable of such a work of art."

"I know my dad was great at transfiguration, but I've always used spoken incantations in the past to signal my intent, but when I focused solely on visualizing my intent I felt my magic just take over and form what I needed."

"Truly magnificent, I could not describe it better. We will just work on repeated proficiency the rest of the night then."

Harry went to bed that night very tired. He would get a very decent night of rest and would not need any potions to help him for the next day of teaching. He was actually looking forward to it. Just one night of transfiguration and conjuration with Godric and he could he could have got an Outstanding Newt in the future instead of his EE or A that he was bound to get if he took it.

He woke up feeling like a new man. He had a newfound respect for his magic. His class went about as well as to be expected. He drew the cast diagram on the wall for the wobbly legs spell.

"Watch as I move my wand. Make sure you have a firm grip on your wand. Make sure your pronunciation is correct. Try the wand movements a few times to get them correct before trying the incantation."

He watched for about 10 minutes. It was the first spell some people ever learned. Others who had a few more years of experience got the hang of it pretty quick. The wand movement was just a vertical semi circle, but the more precise the movement, the better results of course.

When he felt that the students had enough time to get the wand movement and incantation correct, he paired up the classes and banished the desks to the side of the room. He could tell that the students were nervous about using spells on each other, but Harry quickly reassured him that it would be a common occurrence when they learn a new spell in his class. He also reminded them that they will be learning the counterspell.

In the end it was a successful class. As well as could be expected at least. They were no DA, but then again they just started so it would be crazy to hold them to that kind of standard.

It was that time of the night again, he would be learning with Helga. He entered the potions room.

"You are going to brew me a coughing cure, but we will be going over the potion step by step first. Make sure you read each step carefully," Helga started off.

"The first step is gathering the ingredients."

Harry went to the cabinet and collected the necessary ingredients. He went to start preparing them but was stopped.

"First lesson. All because a jar is labeled as Flutterby Flower, doesn't mean it is… " she picked up the jar. "Luckily this is the correct plant. Now look in the jar and inspect the flower. A good flower will have no dead spots or insect bites. The color will be uniform and healthy looking. Make sure the flower is whole, as a whole ingredient is more potent than two halves from different sources."

Harry did as he was told. He figured it was a bad habit he picked up in Snape's class to just use whatever was available. Maybe that is why some of his potions came out so bad.

"Now we prepare the ingredients. Make sure those Red Lotus roots are skinned properly. The skin in the roots can hold impurities from the soil. Ah good, now we are ready to brew."

Harry went to set up his cauldron. He set up fire underneath. He got the required amount of water, and was about to pour it in before he was stopped once again.

"Lesson number two and two and a half. Pre-boiling water might be necessary sometimes to remove impurities. However Distilled water can cause quite a different effect than what we are looking for. Our water here at Hogwarts is pure so we good in that aspect, but if you are worried you can cast a detection charm to look for poisons and what have you. The next point is to clean your cauldron. If your cauldron is dirty, or even contains the faintest traces of past brews, it can cause problems. I suggest using a washing charm, followed by a cleaning charm three times. Only then can we start brewing."

Harry did as he was told, again. He understood the need for it, but it was completely new to him. This is something Snape should have taught, but then again, there are a lot of things Snape could have done.

Harry started going step by step through the potion. It was only a third year potion, and it was simple; 6 steps and 4 ingredients. There was nothing overly complicated, and no hidden techniques used yet. The potion came out as a deep blue color. Perfect. He vaguely remembered the potion he made in his third year was an ugly greenish blue. He only remembered that because he ended up wearing most of it.

"This is a perfect potion, well done. Next week we will harvest our own ingredients from the Forest to make a fever reducer."

The next day Harry was both looking forward and dreading his lessons with Salazar. After teaching two classes on how to dispel the wobbly legs spell with the direct counter, he was off to learn with Salazar. Not surprisingly the first 15 minutes of the lesson was talk on Harry's ancestry and magical blood in general.

"So tell me, what does having magical blood mean to you." Salazar asked before they even settled down.

Luckily Harry had a pre-prepared answer. "It is not your blood that determines what you are, it is your actions. The magic in your blood does not determine how brave, courageous, smart, loyal, cunning, or ambitious a person is."

"Fair enough. But those of pureblood tend to be a lot stronger than those of who are not."

"I think that those with power never use all they have anyway, so it doesn't make a difference in the end. I believe that knowledge is power, not your blood." Harry rebuked.

"I find that there is power, and those that are too weak to seek it. There is a lot of power in knowledge, I agree, but not everyone seeks it. My blood is the source of my power. The great Clan of Slytherin has been around for centuries, their deeds have been great. I have a lot to live up to, and that is my source of power. My power is my motivation, and my motivation is my power. My father, and my father's father were powerful, and I will be too, because that is my destiny, it is in my blood." Salazar preached.

"I cannot fault you for that. There are many forms of power, and I think we both realize that. Not everyone can get their power from their blood because they do not come from a prestigious clan such as yours. I understand that there is power to be had from being influential in society." Harry knew all too well the power of politics, the Malfoy's were a good example.

"And that is what makes them weak."

"And you very well may be underestimating them."

"I do not underestimate anyone, I know exactly where I stand, and other purebloods. There are many forms of power, and to embrace only one is not good enough. We have grown up knowing about our magic and embracing it. Then there are those who are far behind and just learned of their magical powers. It is there job to do catch up, and if they don't, that is there fault. And the sad fact is that the vast majority will fall under this category."

"You don't feel any obligation to help them out?"

"Who would give away power? You earn power by working for it. Those who work hard will be rewarded. I am not completely blind, there are some of those mudbloods out there who will work for their power, and those are the ones who will be the start of a pureblood legacy. All of our families started with a mudblood, but there are those who made a name for themselves and reap the benefits, and those that did not."

"And what do you think you should do with those of pureblood who do not use their power and waste it?"

"They will become puppets to whose with the power, and then they will fade into history. Their power will be reabsorbed into other families. They will either join with other weaker families or join into the nonmagicals until the cycle starts over again."

"So you have a thing against all nonmagicals and people born from them?"

"No. I have a thing against all nonmagicals who don't embrace our world and waste their magic. Our world, both magical and non, is based on power. We have this gift, we should use it. Why should I tolerate a mudblood who wastes a talent that Earth has bestowed on only one in every couple thousand? Magic should only be given to those who are worthy of the power. There are no boundaries that Power cannot overcome."

"So you are telling me that you want to eliminate all the 'mudbloods' out there?"

"Eliminate is such a harsh word. Simply prevent them from getting the magic in the first place. To give it to the ones who deserve it and will use it to their full potential."

"Who are you to disrupt nature?" Harry asked incredulous.

"I am Salazar Slytherin! Nature will reveal its secrets to me- it already has. I have the power to make our world into a better place, and I will use it. Tell me, how far back can you trace your ancestry? I do not recognize your surname."

"My family can trace itself back 800 years to the Roman Empire." Harry responded.

"Good, then we can get this lesson started." Salazar said in an abrupt change of topic. Harry would admit that Salazar had thought his logic through, but he obviously lacked the moral and ethical standards that Harry has.

"Since we are on the topic of magical blood, we will start with the magical blood detection charm, and a counterpart. Tell me what do you know of warding?"

"Not much. It is mostly a general term that is applied to protective magic. Wards are spells that are tied to a source of magic so they can last longer. It is a rare branch of magic in this day and age."

"That much is true. We enchant a stone with the spell. There are general warding techniques to control the power, duration, and size of the ward. These techniques come in the form of runes written on the ward stone. The ward stone itself is a stone or crystal." Salazar reach into a wooden box containing a few crystals. "Quartz is commonly used for ward stones because it is commonly dug out of the ground, and is fairly good at storing magic. Granite can also be used, as it is a very strong stone, and very durable. The best ward stones are made out of diamond, but as diamonds are extremely hard to acquire in large sizes, their use is limited. However, some spells are so powerful that nothing but diamond can harness it. That would mean that the ward stone would need to be recharged frequently, or if you are very proficient at rune work, you can chain the diamond ward stone with another ward stone to use as a reservoir. You follow?"

"I think so. Will you be teaching me a Runic Alphabet?" Harry knew the gist of warding because he knew a successful warder in his old life.

"You will learn the necessary runes of the Anglo-Saxon Futhorc. I do not expect you to become proficient with it, but in a few months time you should be adequate with recognition. Before we can use a spell to ward with, we first must become proficient with the spell inside in out. First you will learn the magical blood detection charm. The charm is what we call a binary or conditional spell. The charm sets you up for a follow up spell to link with it. For example, if nonmagical blood is detected, then you can link it with a follow up spell, such as the repelling charm. You can be pretty specific with the blood charm as well, you can tweak it to work with animals, vampires and the like. That involves some numerology which I'm sure Rowena would enjoy teaching you more about than I would."

"How exactly do you link the spells?"

"Simple really, you just speak a longer incantation. Most spells that have been discovered were used using Latin formulas."

"Why hasn't anyone worked on and English variant?"

"There are, but Latin has been around longer, so more people use it. The Roman Empire was once vast, but it is just a shade of its former glory now. Its language was spread far and wide. Besides the words only act as a pseudo magical focus."

"Something like a guide for your intentions?"

"Now you got it! Do not underestimate magic though. Magic manifests itself in many areas, including languages."

"Like Parseltongue?"

"Parseltongue is indeed a magical language. As is every other animal language."

"Are there any spells that only work in a certain language?"

"Certainly, it is one of my ongoing projects. It is a very arduous tasks, it can take weeks to formulate a spell, if not months. Not very many of my ancestors were knowledgeable enough to discover parselmagic spells, so family notes are hard to come by, and therefore most of my work has been from scratch. I, on the other hand, have documented everything I have every worked on, my personal library is filled with research journals on everything. It is something I pride myself on. Rowena is not the only brilliant mind here, but I will admit she is far more skilled. "

It turned out the two of them got next to no spellwork done that night. The intelligent conversation was refreshing and it was interesting to see what made the inner Salazar tick. He was a lot like Rowena, but he had motives. Rowena's motive was knowledge of the magic itself. Salazar had an ulterior motive for everything he did, although most of it was benign. Still, one can not overlook the fact that he admitted to working against the natural flow on magic, and such things could include necromancy and soul magic. If Salazar was experimenting with soul magic to prevent people from being born magical, then he is probably not far off from working on horcruxes.

Harry was honestly scared at the prospect, not the horcruxes, but the fact that Salazar might discover that a person's magical core is connected to the soul and not the body. It was a scary thought. In his original timeline, it was still something that was unknown as soul magic is a banned subject, Harry doubted that they even worked on it in the Department of Mysteries. One would wonder exactly what a dementor does with a soul, but no one knows. Or if someone did, that information has been lost to time.

Harry hoped that Salazar never gains the knowledge he seeks, if he did Harry would have to destroy it along with the knowledge of horcruxes. The knowledge on how to rip a magical core from a soul is just as nasty as splitting your soul to become immortal. Maybe Harry would get lucky and magical cores are in fact attached to the body so it would be a null point. But as with everything with Harry, it's never that simple or easy, so he prepared for the worst.

Hopefully the situation would not have to come to desperate measures. They had an intelligent conversation and Salazar was able to rationalize his opinions and still accepted Harry's, so there was still hope that Salazar would not go through with his nefarious needs. If Harry could sway Salazar's mindset on the world just enough, then there would be no point in the spell slinging it would inevitable come down to.

As he was mulling over the session with Salazar, he was thinking about the next day with Rowena. They were just friends so far, and nothing had progressed father than innocent talk over some food. He was not sure how to progress a relationship as he had no experience at them. Add in the fact that he is in the first millennium, he was clueless about the standard convention

Fortunately Harry is no longer bound by convention. He does not have to follow the mold. He has characteristics of all 4 houses and none of the houses at the same time. He doesn't have to follow the standards of the wizarding world, because they do not apply to him. He just has to make that step, because that is his destiny. The hard part is getting there, and this teaching job is just the very beginning.

It was hard for Harry to think of the future, because that future had no end point. When he thought about the idea of immortality for too long, he started having a sense of hopelessness, because everything he held dear and near to him wouldn't survive. He would then laugh to himself when he realizes that he has accomplished what Voldemort strived to do, and ultimately failed at.

Harry woke up the next day feeling refreshed. His two classes went well enough that day. The class was a discussion class where talked about the theory behind the spell, as well as common and uncommon uses.

Finally his lesson with Rowena approached. After dinner he followed her to a classroom.

"Tell me Artemis, what do you know about spellcrafting?"

"Not much other than it involves the use of arithmancy and rune work."

"Arithmancy? I've never heard it called that but I suppose it fits. Most people refer to it as many different things, but most common is numerology. The basics are simple. There are two methods of 'creating' a spell. I use the term 'creating' loosely as it could be interpreted as discovering. The potential for the spells are all around us, we just have to figure out how to actively harness it for all of us to easily use. The two methods are a bottom up and top down method. The bottom up is the more numerical based and more generally used for true crafting of a spell. Using numbers and cross-referenced with a runic alphabet, you can control every aspect of a spell. "

"Everything? Like the color and effects?"

"Precisely. Color is pretty simple to alter. Some spells come in natural colors, such as 'lumos' emits natural colored light, and 'incendio' uses natural colored fire. However altering the color of the spell, and altering the color of the spell effects are two different things. A spell like the stunning spell has a spell effect; that is a beam of magic. Altering the color of the beam is very simple, and can usually be accomplished just by adding a prefix to the incantation. Now you can change the color of the incendio spell the same way, but if you say change the flame to blue, it would just be an aesthetic change. If you wanted actually hot blue flames, then you have to tweak the formula. Are you following?"

"I think so. Now I am curious behind the difference in an intent based spell, such as accidental magic, and an incantation."

"Simple really. Intent based spells are hard to replicate. Many intent based spells do not have an incantation equivalent. Incantations allow us to use the spells quicker, and most spells were created out of a need to repeat an intent based effect."

"And where does numerology fall into this?"

"Spell properties are assigned a numerical value. There are general lists of values out there to use, but since the practice is quite rare, it is not uncommon to form your own lists. I have created my own lists, but they will never be complete as I am always identifying new effects. Identify an effects value is the hard part. You have to break down the effect into its components. Determining which components make up the effect you are looking for can be very very tricky, as you often don't have all the components you are looking for. The process can quickly turn into a guess and check scenario if you are not careful, and that can be dangerous."

"So that is the bottom up method? Is it harder than the top down?"

"Yes, very much so. The bottom up I would consider the truer form of spell crafting. The top down method involves less numbers, if any at all. The top down starts with altering an incantation, and then recording the effects. Often it's just adding prefixes and suffixes to existing spells. However you have to be careful when working like this, because a mistake could be fatal. A common addition is adding a power control onto a spell such as 'protego maxima' but if you were to use something like…" she was whispered the next part, "Avada Kedevra Maxima… you will rip your own soul out your body if not just turning yourself into a squib by destroying your own magic."

Harry shivered. "I didn't realize you knew about the killing curse."

"It is a pretty popular spell amongst farmers and butchers. It is a humane way to kill animals and not waste any part of it. Of course that is not the only use of it, as history has repeatedly shown us for hundreds of years."

"I've never thought of it like that, I've only seen it used in battle out of hatred to kill your enemy instantly since there is nothing short of stone that can stop it."

"I would not say that is completely true. The formula for the killing curse is very complicated, but it would be possible to create a counter curse if you use the exact numerical inverse. Of course that is very difficult because the killing curse is an infinity repeating unique number, and not to mention the fact that experimenting with the spell is not very safe, as a small mistake could be deadly. Getting someone to practice it with would be very difficult."

"I would do it."

"What?"

"I have survived the curse before."

"What!"

"There is a more fundamental counter to the killing curse. The way you are describing is the bottom up method. The top down method would also work. The killing curse is fueled by hate. The exact opposite can block it... has blocked it."

"You mean…Love?" she practically whispered.

"Overwhelming love. An evil wizard came after me when I was young. My mother sacrificed herself so that I could live, and when the green bolt of death went to hit me, it rebounded and hit the caster instead. My mom didn't have to die, she had the choice to live, but she chose to die so that I could live. Her overwhelming love for me is the only reason that I am alive. If the caster did not give her the choice to live or die, the story would be different." The story was not very pleasant. In fact, it was quite emotional to hear it come from his own mouth.

"Amazing, completely unheard of." She whispered. "How can you guarantee you would live through it again."

"There are two possibilities really. The first one is about what we discussed about at the end of our first dinner. The second possibility is magic itself. There are many forms of magic. Magic is all around us, the past, the present…and the future. Magic can take our actions seriously, so when my mom wanted me to live, magic made it happen."

The sat in quiet for a few minutes thinking over what he just said, before she figured it out. "Divination… Prophecy? A sketchy magic at best."

"But magic nonetheless. It's not the prophecy itself, but the people who believe in it. There is a saying 'Magic has no boundaries, except those that you believe in.'"

"I'm not sure I completely understand."

"You will in time," Harry said, "all in due time."

She sat deep in thought for a few more minutes before they started working on the lesson at hand.

"We will start with some simple exercises. We will unravel the 'lumos' spell. What does the 'lumos' spell do?"

"Emulates the sunlight."

"Exactly. Since we are using sunlight as our source, that leaves only one variable, and that is the intensity. The intensity is controlled through power, so it is easy enough to determine how much power is needed for a specific amount of luminosity."

"So we start off with the runic alphabet of choice. I know a few but I imagine that Salazar has you using the local alphabet so that is what we will use to make it easier on you. We simply assign each symbol a number, and then the words form a value. Note that we do not add the individual numbers together, although it can be done. If you do that it is possibly that other words share the same value. It would not do to try to heal someone and kill them instead. However these abbreviated values do have a purpose, many common spells use an abbreviated value to translate it into a usable form, such as 'lumos'. However for spells that are not as simple, it is harder to decipher if a spell shares a value with another. We are simply doing the 'lumos' spell the longer, but normal way, for practice. Back to the original statement. We do not normally add the numbers together, we simply just read it as one longer number instead of many separate numbers. The chance of multiple spells with the same value is still there, but the chance is significantly less likely, almost nonexistent."

"I think you should show me here so I don't get lost." Harry was following along as best as he could. He did understand the basic concept so far, so he stuck with it.

"Ok, use the runes and find the components we are looking for. Sun. Light. And brightness. Now record the numerical position that each one is in. It is important when starting your index that you stick with these numbers. If you use a different alphabet, you will have to use different numbers."

At the end of the night Harry had one new spell in his inventory. Sure it did exactly the same thing as the Latin 'lumos' but this one he made himself, and it made it all the more personal.

He massaged his temples. Some of what he listened too was way over his head. He was ashamed that he took the easy way out in Hogwarts by taking divination and magical creatures instead of arithmancy and ancient runes. He knew he could handle those classes. He was quite good in muggle school, although he made sure to hide it from the Dursley's lest he get locked away in the cupboard without food. He did it for his friends however. He was more than capable of succeeding in those classes, but he held himself back. For Ron to make him feel adequate, and for Hermione to make her feel smarter then everyone else. He was certain that he could have given her a run for her money, but he valued the friendship too much. It was coming back to bite Harry now, as it has been quite a long time since he has been forced to apply himself with theory instead of practicals. It was clear that Salazar was in a league of his own, maybe only matched by Dumbledore and Voldemort. However it seemed that Rowena was probably in a league beyond even them, and still in her 20's! Mind boggling, but then again they are the founders of the modern magical society.

* * *

_**A/N**_

_As of 11/29/10, the first 4 chapters have been rewritten so they read better. They are still far from perfect, but I have altered some large grammar mistakes and smoothed the flow of the story. The general plot remains unchanged, but some things have been tweaked to be streamlined better. The biggest change was making the first chapter and the world more believable, so I added in a lot more description reminiscent of the later chapters. Either way, there was no way the chapters could get any worse, and since this is fanfiction, re-editing is always a possibility. A new chapter (c14; Tradesmeet) should be posted very shortly. I wanted it to coincide that chapter with the rewrites to the beginning of this story so any new readers would be more prone to read through the drab and see the epicness of the later chapters. _


	5. Chapter 5

Harry ended up doing nothing important at all during his first weekend off from teaching. He lounged around with the other teachers and got into some light debates, talked about some of the potential students, but other than that he just mostly relaxed.

Monday came quicker than he would like, be he had naught else to do at the moment. He would have to get working on his property, but he figured he would need a lot more time than a weekend to do it properly. Harry decided that the midwinter break would be adequate time to try and contact the dwarves via Gringotts.

He waited for his class to arrive, before having them all quickly follow him out and onto the grounds. The trip to the forest took about 10 minutes, so they still had plenty of time to search for their goal.

He stopped the class at the edge of the forest. And the class gathered around, wands in hands.

"We will be looking for bowtruckles. They live in the trees. Usually they only live in trees whose wood is used for wands, but that is a pretty loose definition. I'm not an expert in wand crafting, but wands can be made out of nearly anything, it's just that some woods are far more commonly used than others."

"There two ways to capture a bowtruckle, the violent way, or the gentle way. Coincidently the violent way is also the easy way, but for all our sakes we will use the gentle way."

"The trick is to use woodlice. Woodlice are like a delicacy to them. An offering of them will placate them enough to harvest wood from the tree, or in our case study them."

"Locating them can be tricky if you don't know how. Bowtruckles are natural guardians of their tree. This has a few implications, one of them being that the tree they 'guard' is a lot healthier than the ones around them. The tree will bear larger fruit and flowers, sooner and longer. You will also find less moss and mushrooms growing around the tree. Coincidently a bowtruckles magic that strengthens the tree also makes it the reason that the wood is more favored than a normal tree for wands."

He led them about 150 feet into the forest before he found a very healthy looking oak tree. The tree was noticeably larger and greener than the similar oak trees nearby, a good indication that there was a bowtruckle present.

"I'm going to place some woodlice on a leaf here. The bowtruckle is a very small creature, so you have to keep your eyes open. It also tends to blend with the surroundings; it has a bark covered body."

He placed the woodlice on a leaf, and they waited. About 10 minutes later they saw a small creature shuffle over and inspect the woodlice before slowly starting to eat them. They watched the tree guardian eat for about 15 minutes before it was done and returned to the tree.

"Next we will see a violent bowtruckle." Harry led them about another 200 feet farther into the woods. "Now there are many ways to deal with a bowtruckle, however they are very small and very nimble. You would have to be very lucky to hit it with a stunning charm. An easy way to kill one would be to light it on fire, but I'm not looking to kill. Banishing charms can also be pretty effective. One could also use Aguamenti followed up with a freeze charm. However since I am looking to capture it, I will simply use a summoning charm."

He walked up to the tree and pulled out his sword. He swung it at the tree to piss off the bowtruckle. Sure enough the thing came buzzing out of the top branches.

"Impedimenta!" Harry shouted to slow the thing down.

"Accio Bowtruckle" He grabbed the thing and transfigured a branch into a small cage, and then placed it inside.

"I will keep the bowtruckle in the class for us to study the rest of the week. I will lead us back to the school then the class is dismissed."

The second class went much the same, and now he had two bowtruckles in cages that the class would be studying for the week. They probably weren't too happy about their living conditions, but they weren't being mistreated beyond the fact they weren't guarding their home tree.

His lesson with Godric went well. Harry went through various inanimate transfigurations and conjurations just so he got used to it. They started to work on the fine details, such as the difference between permanent transfiguration and conjuration. Eventually they would get to live transfigurations and conjurations, as well as animation. Once Harry was proficient enough they would work on combat situations, and that probably wouldn't happen until after midwinter.

The next day was an odd day for Harry. He walked into his classroom and saw a strange scene. Silvia moon was sitting in front of the bowtruckle cages and apparently was talking to them. Naturally Harry had no idea what they were talking about, all he heard was a bunch of wind like rustling and chittering.

"Excuse me Miss Moon?"

"Sorry Instructor."

"You were communicating with the tree guardian?"

"Yes sir."

"Were you born with this gift or was it something you learned being a druid?"

"It is something you learn, I started learning as a young girl. Not speaking to bowtruckles specifically but learning to communicate with nature in general."

"Can you talk with trees? What about snakes?"

"The magic of being a druid allows me to speak with any living thing, be it plant or creature. You can't really speak with a willow tree, but it's more of understanding it."

"Interesting. I must admit I have very little knowledge on druid groves, but I am immensely curious at what else you learned."

"Well a lot of what we learn becomes instinctual. I guess you could almost compare me to a bowtruckle- we are guardians. We are talented in healing magics, although not the traditional way. We can call upon the nature around us for defense. Of course the longer you study druidic magic the more proficient you become, I am naught but an adept, and I have been a member of the grove for 12 years."

"And what about the members of the grove itself? How does one become a druid?"

"Well not all druids are human, if that is what you are asking. The Great druid is 700 years old and is a Wild Elf. There are about 30 adepts, which is the most common rank. There are usually around 10 initiates, and it takes 7 years to gain the rank of adept. After 10 years as an adept you are eligible to take a test to become a guardian. After an undetermined time you can choose to become a master. There are only 3 masters in our grove right now, and there can only be one Great. I would say about a half of us are human. The other half would include a few werewolves, nymphs and elves. There is also a single vampire. Becoming a druid initiate is simply passing a cursory test with a master druid to determine your intents."

"And if I someone like me wanted to find a master druid to become an initiate, where would they look?"

"Ask the forest. If the forest deems you worthy you will find a grove."

"Thanks you. The class will be starting in about 5 minutes I reckon."

"Yes instructor." He filed the druid adept's information for later, it could definitely come in handy. It's the first time he's been exposed to knowledge on magical druidism, partially because they are nonexistent in the future as far as he knew.

The class went smoothly. He basically just taught the various habits of a bowtruckle. Naturally Adept Moon was the best, of course even more so than him.

The rest of the day went smoothly minus Helga's lessons as he was still trying to adapt from Snape's piss-poor example. Even 1000 years in the past Snape was still haunting him.

When he wasn't reading, or learning from one of the founders, he was researching. He often made trips into Diagon alley and Hogsmede to find scrolls and books. There was only so much the Black library could help him with, and the Black family wouldn't be founded for another 400 years. Then meant most of the family books were post 1400's. He was trying to locate more information on Druids, but there just seems to be none. It never occurred to him that it was because druids are inherently good, while the majority of the Black family stigma was malicious and they would never have a book about such a thing.

He figured the only way to find out more on the druids would be to go to the Grove itself. He wasn't sure how long it would take but he figured it would be better off to wait for midwinter or the summer. Druidism was just one ancient magic that he found out about, and he was sure there was more. Thankfully, time was on his side.

While he was looking for any scrolls that would help him, he did pick up a number of magical artifacts. When he was looking back on his purchases, he briefly wondered how to create such things himself. Just one more thing to add to his list of magics to learn.

One artifact that he bought was a hand of glory. The seller didn't actually know what it did, but Harry did and that was enough for him to buy it on the spot for two sickles. It would make for a fine display piece in his office, as gruesome as it was.

It slowly dawned on him the reason that he couldn't find much information on druids in public markets. The vast majority of the world could not read. He subconsciously knew that, that's why he handed out wand movement diagrams and there were no required books. This meant that if he wanted to find any information that wasn't common knowledge, it would either be passed down family lines, or in private libraries. He immedietly thought of the Hogwarts library, but the he realized that it didn't exist in its magnificent glory. Then it hit him like a sack of bricks.

"Rowena. She is the smartest witch of the age and should be able to help me out, if not directly then a place where I could find it." He cursed himself for being dumb. It wasn't so much that he was desperate for knowledge on druids, but just forgotten or overlooked magics in general.

So naturally he confronted her.

"Hey Rowena, I have a question."

"Ask away."

"If I wanted to find information on obscure and ancient magics, where would be the best place to go? More specifically I'm looking for information on druidism and shamanism." Harry asked.

"Well information on those two subjects are usually taught by word of mouth, there isn't too much written down. If you are looking for information on the specific magic that makes them special, I would have to suggest the Library of Alexandria."

Harry looked at her with an astonished look on his face. "I thought the Library was destroyed?"

"It was. It is not the same library. There are actually 6 libraries that now go by that name, all related to each other. Many of the works survived and are kept in between the 6 buildings. The nearest one would be on the Island of Azkaban. An elder warlock calls the island his home and is the keeper of the library. He is one of those people with a double magical core, so I wouldn't get on his bad side. He is a very nice person though so that shouldn't be hard. The other libraries are all overseas."

"I've heard of it." Harry responded. He was completely blindsided by that answer. He just assumed Azkaban was always a prison. He curiously wondered when it changed. He wanted to ask more, but he didn't want to sound too much an idiot and ask about dementors and the like.

He sighed to himself and added a visit to the once dreaded island on his list of things to do.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own none of this, The HP universe and character was created by JKR.

Warning: Some sexual situations occur in this chapter. Nothing too graphic (sorry?)

* * *

Harry's first year of teaching went smoothly enough. Harry learned more about magic and the nature of it during that year then all his years at Hogwarts. All the Founder's were great teachers and they all enjoyed what they did, even Salazar. Of course there is always an ulterior motive with Salazar. Harry wished he knew enough about legillimancy to dig into his thoughts, but he didn't yet so he would have to play the waiting game.

Godric was a great teacher and he loved teaching the kids. He wasn't magically strong per se, but it made it up with the typical courage and bravery that you would expect from him. He was a very talented dueler, in both wands and swords, and he began to teach Harry in addition to transfiguration. Harry of course held up his end of the bargain and showed Godric some of his more dangerous spells, such as the concussion hex, and the sword slashing hex he learnt off Snape.

Harry's lessons with Helga went much the same through the year. Harry learned the basic properties of the potion ingredients as well the purposes behind some of the techniques used in brewing, such as stirring direction and temperature. Harry learnt a great deal about Herbology too, such as what to look for when choosing an herb to use as an ingredient, and how to check for impurities.

Salazar's lessons were different to say the least. Salazar wasn't outwardly prejudiced in class, but he had no qualms about teaching nastier spells. There is not much use of a nightmare inducing charm, but he seemed to enjoy it. He taught the muggle repelling charm, as well as several other anti-muggle spells that weren't nearly as nice.

Of course the term Muggle hasn't been coined yet. They use terms like non-users, non-magicals, and normals. Naturally Salazar was interested in what 'dark' spells Harry knew. There was no way that Harry would tell him about the unforgivables, which he probably knew them like the back of his hand anyway. Those were ancient spells. Rowena knew about them so Harry could imagine that Salazar knew them and used them. They probably weren't even dubbed 'unforgivables' yet anyways.

The only dark spells that Harry was willing to share were dark stunners, dark shields, and pretty much other spells with the prefix "dark" attached to it. They are intent based, and more powerful. Harry was sure that there was such thing as a dark patronus, but he had not experimented with it yet. Salazar probably knew these spells already also, but he didn't mention anything.

Rowena's lessons were probably the most beneficial over all. He knew very little of arthimancy and runes beforehand- only what he managed to pick up from Hermione. It didn't take him too long to get the basics, but he would not be doing any significant spell crafting for quite some time. The only thing Harry was able to offer was obscure charms that had no real use in this time period. She did seem to enjoy his company and that was a plus.

Harry's own classes were enjoyed by the students. He noticed that the younger students took a lot longer to catch on to the ideas then the first years he remembered, but the advanced students were a lot more advanced than NEWT students.

Harry took frequent trips into the Forbidden Forest and Black Lake to collect creatures. He could feel that he was being watched by Centaurs, but he had yet to see them which he was thankful for.

* * *

Harry was very busy during the winter break. His first stop was to visit Gringotts.

He walked through the front door and was immedietly escorted to the Gringotts' Chief's room.

"How may Gringotts be of service to you, master Entreri?"

Harry decided to cut to the chase. Time is money after all. "I seek an audience with the Dwarven Council."

The goblin gave out a haughty laugh. "What makes you think we know anything about Dwarves?"

"100 galleons say you know something about the Dwarves." Harry replied.

"I do know something about the Dwarves." The old goblin replied with a crooked smile. "I warn you that they do not take kindly to mere humans in their kingdom."

"What do they say about mere immortals?" Harry asked curiously.

"We shall see, shant we?" the goblin said dubiously. "It's a long trip, I hope you are ready."

"Let's go."

Harry followed the goblin through the porcelain hallway. The elder goblin stopped in front of a door and poked his head in. After a few minutes of harsh goblin-talk, they were walking down a less used hallway, both holding a pair of torches.

They passed many nondescript rooms, portraits, and other artwork before they went off down another side passage. This passage was very dirty, and had an unfinished feel about it.

Sure enough, about 30 minutes of brisk walking later, the passageway started sloping downhill.

The straight cut tunnel gradually turned into a rough hewn tunnel. One would think it was a natural occurrence, if it wasn't for the footpath.

Harry questioned what the hell he was doing, but didn't say anything. He questioned this because the walk took at least a day. It was hard to tell how long they actually walked, as there was no light, but he was dead tired.

Some parts of the tunnel were very terrifying. There were parts where he had to crouch for an hour at a time. Other parts of the tunnel opened up into wide caverns that the light of the torch couldn't fully reveal. And even some parts were just a ledge and an unfathomably deep abyss.

After hours of prolonged walking, they arrived at a very large metal door. Harry marveled at the craftsmanship of the door. It felt like a very hard metal, but the artistic quality was amazing. There were simply no words in the English language to describe it. There were probably 30 or 40 Dwarven words to describe it, none of which Harry knew.

The goblin gave a knock on the door, and a few seconds later a hidden window slot in the door opened up. Harry saw, what he guessed was a Dwarven face, appear in the hole.

"Who be there?" A gruff voice called out.

"Chief Hragnaz the Sixth and Master Artemis Entreri." The goblin replied. "He wishes to speak with the King about contracting some Dwarven workers…"

"Very well Chief…and human." The Dwarf gave a booming laugh. "Follow me. No funny business or we be feeding you the Gnolls."

They followed the dwarf who didn't introduce himself. Harry thought it was rude, but if the dwarf was just a gatekeeper, then he figured it didn't matter too much. The dwarf didn't look outwardly hostile, other than the large axe casually resting over his shoulder, and his metal helm.

Harry then saw his beard. He gave a mental 'fist pump'. The beard was as magnificent as he thought it would be, and he was envious.

The dwarf led them through a massive antechamber. There were many pillars, each of which were similar to the design at Gringotts, but far superior in craftsmanship and quality.

"There be a new king crowned this cycle, and this be a time of celebration. The old king would spit upon ye human. Maybe that be why the old king be dead." The dwarf explained with a shrug.

After they passed through the massive antechamber they arrived into the main city.

"Welcome to Kilgirn lad!" The dwarf exclaimed.

"How many cities are there exactly?"

"This be the largest city within a quarter-quarter of a cycles walk. There are other outposts and strongholds. That is as much as I can tell an outsider." The dwarf apologized.

Harry had no clue what a cycle was, but he figured that he probably was talking about a year. If that was so, and if a quarter-quarter means one-sixteenth, then the nearest city was a three week march.

The dwarf continued with a brief tour of the city.

"Over there be the forges."

Whatever Harry was expecting, the forges were not it. It seemed as if they were controlling the lava right out of hell itself. There were hundreds, if not thousands of dwarves working the vast system of forges and anvils. Harry could see armor, weapons, chains, doors, wheels, goblets, and anything you could think of being created here.

"Amazing." Harry said breathlessly.

"Thank ye human." The anonymous dwarf replied. "Not many of ye land dwellers ever get to see them."

Harry was amazed at the scope of the huge city. There were thousands of dwarfs walking around; it reminded him of London circa 1990's. The amount of businesses were only limited to your imagination in what you can sell.

About 30 minutes of walking through the vast city, and receiving many stares (which he was used to), they came upon the grandest building of them all. The wide double doors were solid gold, with an unfamiliar symbol made out of diamonds.

They passed through the double doors and inside there was a large room with an equally large table with about 20 dwarves and 4 other strange looking females sitting around it. Harry noticed the pointed ears and figured them for elves- and not the house elf kind. They were quite beautiful Harry decided. There were 3 seats open at the head of the table, one of them being a solid crystal throne.

The dwarf led them over to the seats, which they hesitantly took.

What was shocking the most was that the dwarf that the assumed to be a gatekeeper, sat down on the throne.

"Welcome to Whurlode, the Iron Citadel. From these halls our forefathers and our forefathers' forefathers have guided our great kingdom. I be King Thothic the First. How can the Dwarven Kingdom be of service?"

Harry looked shocked for a few seconds before answering. The goblin chief looked amused. "I have heard that Dwarves create the finest masterpieces in the land. I wish for you to create the finest watchtower known to man. It needs to be 8 furlongs high and a quarter wide, and built in the direct center of a lake."

Some of the other dwarves seemed to snicker behind their beards. The King began to stroke his beard, lost in thought.

The King flicked his fingers once and a scroll of parchment appeared in his hands. He took out a marvelous looking indescribable writing instrument and began writing on the scroll.

"Let's see what we can get planned out then, shall we?"

One of the dwarves jumped up suddenly and threw his tankard against the wall. The dwarf cursed a few times in Dwarven before walking out of the room.

The King then stood up and addressed the room in common English. "This man be no mere mortal human, I assure you. I can feel it deep down here," the King indicated his heart. "That this is the right thing to do. We will build this tower, and we will build it with pride. For too long have we sat idle in our underground caves, hiding away from the world while the world above us grows! This tower will be both a monument and a legacy."

Harry stared in shock for a few seconds before they got down to the details. He wasn't expecting it to be this easily.

"What are my options for building materials?"

"Well lad, anything we mine can be used. We usually carve out buildings by removing material, and all that material has to go somewhere. I suggest for something as large as what you want onyx stone and Dhelhauk… I believe your types call it Adamantite?" He said to the goblin.

The chief gave a curt nod.

"The structure will be mostly the onyx stone and the Dhelhauk metal will be used as support and for all the finer details. Naturally I will only have my best Valdrid, Azrid and Yurrid working on this."

Harry nodded his head, not having a clue at what those three names meant.

The King was scratching out something on his scroll. He gave a small smile after he finished some computations.

"Very well. My estimations show that the construction will take about 5 cycles, and the Yurgrim will take another quarter."

"What about payment?"

"What ye got?" The King asked, surprisingly calm.

"Goblin gold." Harry responded with a shrug.

"Eh. Five thousand of those round things you fellows like to use." The King said nonchalantly. Some of the nearby dwarves whistled with appreciation.

"Two thousand." Harry responded shakily. He expected having to bargain, but not with the King. At least he wasn't bloodthirsty. He hoped.

"Fou.r" The King said without batting an eye.

"Two thousand five."

"Three thousand and not a coin less. I'm sure this is the number we both had in mind to begin with?" The dwarf barked out a laugh and held out his hand.

"Indeed." Harry said with a small laugh and shook the King's hand.

"This is cause for a celebration!" Thothic shouted.

"I thought this already was a celebration?" Harry whispered to the Goblin Chief. Harry looked around and saw that all the dwarves were nursing tankards and eating healthy amounts of food.

"This is them normal. I'm going back up to the surface- Dwarven parties are no place for a Goblin. I wish you luck." The goblin responded and got up. Harry wondered what he meant by that.

A few minutes after the Goblin Chief left the King turned to Harry. "I feel I ought to let you know that you took the long way to get down here."

Harry didn't know how to respond to that, but the King continued on.

"The Goblins lead the inexperienced through the long tunnels to dissuade them, and to test their mettle. You passed obviously- here you are. The goblins have a rope system that can get them here 100 times faster." The King looked up briefly. "Ah the party begins!"

Sure enough, 5 Dwarven women came in wheeling in large kegs. They tapped the kegs and the alcohol started flowing. More Dwarven women came out with massive platters of meat.

Harry didn't have any say in what he wanted and in a few seconds flat there was a heaping plate of the surprisingly good food in front of him, and a large tankard of a mysterious looking drink.

"Drink up lad!" The King smacked his back. "Dwarven Stout be putting some muscles on ye bones!"

Harry took a tentative sip and was surprised. It was really good, but he could tell it had a high alcohol content. He didn't want to insult the King so he drank up.

Harry didn't think anything was going to faze him as long as he kept on drinking, but he was wrong. The dwarves are a very rowdy bunch, and apparently very raunchy. They were jumping up on their seat yelling and singing drinking tunes.

"And this is the upper echelon of Dwarven society" Harry mused to himself. He was, however, completely unprepared for what happened next.

The female Dwarves came back into the room, but this time they jumped up on top of the table. They did a perfectly synchronized dance, but not before they pulled off their tops.

Harry's eyes bugged out. There was only really two ways to tell a Dwarven male apart from a female. The first one (which only applies about 50% of the time…) is to look for the beards. The second one…well Harry just found out about the second one.

Once again, deciding not to be rude, decided to fill up his tankard for a second time. He promptly downed it. He filled up a third time and downed that one to.

One thought popped into his mind. "No amount of alcohol will make those females attractive."

Harry drank down a fourth, hoping to drink himself unconscious. He was about to drink a fifth when he was interrupted. The beer was starting to get to him pretty good as he was starting to not see straight. He noticed that some of the Dwarves were leaving to room with a female dwarf in tow. He hoped that he wouldn't be condemned to that fate.

He got one of those gut feelings however.

Harry got a desperate look in his eyes when he saw an exceptionally burly female dwarf head his way. He was looking all around for an exit, as best as he could anyway. He was pretty smashed of the potent Dwarven liquor.

It was almost as if fate itself came to Harry's rescue. He looked over the slowly sauntering dwarf's shoulder and saw the group of female elves approaching also. They had a look of disgust on their face when they looked at the dwarves. But the lead consulate had a look of… hunger? in her eyes. A look of hunger for Harry.

Harry gulped. The lead elf tapped the female dwarf on the shoulder and sent her in the opposite direction.

It was then that the King came by and gave a heavy clap to Harry's back. "Artemis me boy," The King swayed a little bit. "This is the end of an Era. Never again will 4 different races be in the same room again. The elves be on the brink of war. The dwarves are dying out- there used to be a hundred cities as grand as this one. 'Tis not so anymore. There be only 1 female per 20 males… The goblins are in the same situation my friend. They are down to three clans out of 50… The age of humans is upon is. Soon will be the days where none of us are left. Before that day comes, enjoy yourself and what my kingdom has to offer. I think you will be surprised."

Harry pondered the surprising wise words of the drunken Dwarf King. On second thought, the words drunk and dwarf are kind of redundant.

Harry was brought out of his reverie by the arrival of the 4 female elves. These were not the sickly house elves of the future. These were the full blown tall, immortal, beautiful, wise elves of muggle fantasies. Beautiful was an understatement. These female elves put any human specimen to shame.

No words were exchanged as they tugged Harry out of the room and into an exceptionally large suite. Large by Dwarven standards at least, it was normal size for tall beings like elves and humans. Harry could barely even keep his eyes open and his head was pounding from the alcohol. He wasn't exactly a heavy drinker, usually.

Harry was thrown onto the surprisingly soft bed. He was in a daze wondering if this were truly happening. The lead consulate stood in front of the bed while the other three took off Harry's clothes. The lead consulate then took off her attire in one fluid motion. Harry's eye's bugged out as he tried to process what was happening.

"Holy shit." Harry said as he looked at the naked elf. He briefly wondered if Veela were descended from these marvelous beings. His musings were cut short when the he noticed the elf move onto to administer her ministrations.

Harry was silently cursing himself for drinking too much of the alcohol. If he known this was going to happen, he wouldn't have downed two gallons of the stuff.

Harry noticed that the elf was now riding him. He gave himself a mental high five to losing his virginity before Ron. Ron now owed him 5 galleons. He beat him by at least 1000 years.

Harry didn't last long for obvious reasons, and actually passed out from the potent mix of an intense orgasm and way too much alcohol. His last thought before passing out was wondering exactly how he got pulled into a room and trounced on by elves of all things. Not that he minded he decided in the end.

He would go on to sleep for nearly 12 hours, but he did wake up briefly several times to the different elves being on top of him, and sometimes at the same time, and even with each other. When he would finally go to wake up for good, he noticed the naked sleeping forms of the 4 elves draped around him in various positions.

"Drank too much alcohol…I can barely remember." Harry sighed to himself.

The elves seemingly all woke up at the same time. "You can put your memory in a pensieve, and then take the memory out of the pensieve and put it back into your head. It will be perfectly clear." The lead elf said with a smile.

Harry started becoming aroused again, and the elves noticed. "Thanks for saving me from that Dwarven…seductress. I enjoyed this very much. Will we meet again?"

"Not today, we have important business to conduct. We will meet again in the future I suspect." The elves put on their clothes and left the room. Harry smiled to himself when he noticed one of the elves walk off with a limp.

"King Thothic just went up to the top of my buddies list. Good guy the fellow is." Harry said out loud to himself. Harry himself was too sore and hung over to actually move around too much so he spent the whole day in bed recovering. He wondered how many times the elves actually took him for a ride, as he surely didn't do anything but lay there. He put getting a pensieve at the top of his priority list.

* * *

Harry finally managed to leave the room and make his way back to the Iron Citadel. He noticed that the city was even more bustling then he remembered, if such a thing was possible.

The King greeted him like an old drinking buddy. Maybe that's what he considered him?

"Artemis me friend. I trust your night was as good as mine? I saw the Princess drag you off with her friends."

"P-P-Princess?" Harry stuttered.

"Princess Israniel Larenlynnlal. Heir to the throne." The King responded. "You be a lucky lad."

"I slept with the Elvish Princess." Harry said with disbelief.

"Aye."

"I noticed the city is very busy." Harry abruptly changed subjects.

"It is not often that we have such a large project to work on. We are already starting. I just need you to show me where you want it built."

"Do you know what apparation is?"

"Aye. You be one of them types then?"

"Aye."

"Very well." The King grabbed onto Harry's outstretched arm and the vanished to Harry's property.

"This be impressive. A natural lake that is almost perfectly circular. The King took two bracelets out of his pocket, and handed one to Harry.

Without explanation the King put it on and walked right into the water. Harry was about to yell out, but instead the King was walking on top of the water. Harry took one look at his bracelet, put it on, and then followed.

King Thothic procured a wooden case from somewhere and opened it up. Inside were some very mechanical looking devices. He started doing something with them and writing down readings. Harry had no clue what he was doing, but it looked like some sort of surveying or architectural stuff.

The King was crosschecking a vague sextant looking object to readings he was getting with a weird looking telescopic telescope type contraption. He then took out a decent sized object that had had a bunch of mechanical parts to it. Harry would compare it with the innards of a complex mechanical clock.

"Interesting. This lake be a nearly perfect circle." He walked out farther on the lake. He procured another item from the case, this time it was a telescopic pole. "This is the exact center, and where we will build." The King thrust the long rod down into the lake.

Harry was very impressed. He didn't think that the King would actually be taking such a big personal interest, to the point of where he would be doing to actual measuring himself.

"Just need to find a spot to start digging."

"What for?"

"Dwarves need to get here somehow lad."

"What? You are going to tunnel all the way from Kilgirn to here?"

"How else? This project will require thousands of workers, there is no other choice. This be the best way. Worry not about it. "

They walked back to dry land and the King pulled out sundial type contraption. It seemed to be a sort of compass as well. The king was following the pointer, and after a few minutes of walking he seemed satisfying. "This be the tunnel entrance, do you mind?"

"It's fine, as long as you don't damage the house." Harry said, indicating his finished house about 100 yards away.

The King gave a nod. He took out yet another instrument. He turned some of the cylinders and knobs around until he felt satisfied. He placed in on the ground where the entrance to the future tunnel would be.

"How long will it take to create the tunnel?"

"1207 and a quarter furlongs… about 7 of your human days."

"Wow, that is impressive."

"You can watch if you want. We are very proud of our work."

"I might just do that."

* * *

Harry and King Thothic arrived back at the Iron Citadel with a loud pop. The King made a slight hand gesture and a bunch of monocle wearing dwarves walked over to the King.

Thothic took out his list of measurements and passed them around while the other engineer type dwarves made notes.

After a scant dozen minutes of discussion the King spoke up in common English. "Very well. Let us be started!"

The King motioned for Harry to follow, so he did. Thothic led him to a very large staging area. He noticed that many dwarves were gathering around various machines.

The King gave a simple nod to a random dwarf, and that simple gesture sent the whole process into motion.

A large…machine was guided over to a plain rock wall. Then with a large screeching sound the front of the machine started to rotate.

Harry was in awe, and like many similar Dwarven contraptions, he was having a hard time describing this one. He would compare it with a modern tunneling machine, but barely. There were whirligigs, thingamajigs and widgets all over the machine. Miles of copper piping with no noticeable symmetry or purposeful flow jutted out in every directing.

The rotating part on the contraption was not a drill like Harry originally thought. It was a massive spring loaded punch. There were various pulleys, cogs, and gears that wound the massive point back, and rammed it about 100 feet through the rock. Naturally it was very loud, and very dirty. Rocks were flung everywhere.

There were other dwarves controlling various smaller machines to refine the large crushed rock into managable amounts. The machines actually seemed to be running on a steam based engine, which surprised Harry greatly. There was a large mobile water tank in the middle of the staging ground where they small machines would go to fill up.

The smaller machines themselves were incredible in their own right. They had a sort of cam-action pneumatic crusher. It was vaguely similar to a modern excavator, except the bucket would crush the rock instead of simply moving it. It was on simple unremarkable wheels and operated by 5 dwarves working in tandem to control the contraption. There were dozens of different controls and levers that Harry couldn't even imagine what for. There were hundreds of feet of haphazard looking copper pipe on each machine to contain the steam and water. Every few minutes a large amount of steam would be released through a valve, creating a loud whistling sound.

Not to put the whole operation into perspective, the tunnel-spike-rammer was about 25 feet in diameter, which feels even larger if you're a dwarf. Each one of the machines had a sort of conveyor system that used even more fascinating contraptions and a lot of pulleys.

It seemed the only use of the steam engines was to crush the large rock into smaller rocks. The smaller rocks were refined by individual dwarves. And by individual dwarves, it would be about half of the total work force that was digging through the rubble. They didn't want to leave any valuable ore or minerals untouched. Harry wouldn't be surprised if a lot of the ore they dug through was used in his tower.

King Thothic himself was working on ore refining. He had himself a small station set up and was inspecting various stones. He noticed Harry's stare and motion him over.

"Artemis me boy." The King greeted. "Care to learn something on ye trip down here?"

"Ok. I don't have much time though, I am an instructor up at Hogwarts, classes are starting back up soon."

"Sure thing lad." The dwarf procured another stool from somewhere and Harry sat down on it.

"See this rock?"

"Yeah."

"This be no simple rock." He replied. He then showed another identical rock. "This one be a simple rock, and that one be rare schorl. Not very often you find that in these rocks."

"How can you tell the difference?"

"Pshaw. They be as different as light and day." Thothic replied incredulously. "Just playing with ye lad. Those without me gift be using one these." He handed Harry an introverted nano-transducer with a cobalt-40 focus set in a cubic boron nitride lattice. To those not in the know, it was simply a magical magnifying glass.

Harry took to offered magnifying glass and held it over the two identical looking rocks. The first mundane rock was just that- plain and boring. The second rock was surprising. It was glowing through the lens. He attributed it to having magical properties.

"Fascinating." Harry said with interest.

"Aye."

"What are gems like this used for?"

"This can be used to harness fire. We use them in the hottest of our forges. It absorbs the heat, and then releases it all at once. Very useful in melting ore like wolframite. Here, you can have this one." The King casually tossed the very rare stone to Harry.

Harry caught it with quick precision which earned a chuckle from the King.

"Good catch lad." He shifted a large rock over to Harry. "See if you can find anything in that."

Harry picked up a small hammer and the magic lens. He looked through the lens and found nothing outwardly significant. He took the hammer and started breaking pieces of the rock off.

After a few minutes he hit something solid. He uncovered the plain looking crystal.

"Just quartz lad, nothing special." The King said, not even looking up.

"Did you identify it just on the sound?" Harry asked astonished.

"Aye. Did you think I became King just on my good looks alone?" Thothic said with a hearty laugh.

Harry continued chipping away until he heard the sound change again. He looked at the new crystal through the lens. The glow was a bright blue.

"Nice one. Uncover the rest, see how big it is." The King said with excitement.

Harry continued chipped the rock away from the large, ultramarine colored gem. When he was done he had a very large baseball sized gem in his hand.

"Merlin, this is massive!" Harry exclaimed.

"It's beautiful. It be a sapphire."

Harry put it in his pocket after the King insisted he keep it. He found nothing else in the large stone he was given.

Harry only stayed in the Dwarven Kingdom for another hour before he decided he had to leave. He did have class to teach after all, and he spent nearly the whole winter break underground. He left very satisfied, and not just from the drunken debauchery. In just the few short hours of drilling Harry already lost sight of the large digging contraption. He could still hear it though. He sighed to himself and cursed wizards for ostracizing the other magical creatures as he apparated back onto Hogwarts grounds.

* * *

a/n

Valrid- magic craftsman

Azrid- rock craftsman

Yurrid- rune craftsman

Yurgrim- eternal runes

Wolframite is the material that tungsten is refined from… tungsten requires heat of 6200F to melt. Obviously it wouldn't be called this back in year 1000 and especially by the dwarves, so don't bother complaining about such a small detail in a review.

This chapter was actually written at two different times. This first part, the summary, has been written for months, while the dwarven scene is brand new.

I hope no one gets mad that Harry turned into a man with some hot elves and not Rowena, despite the fact he was passed out the whole time. You were the ones complaining about the relationship being too quick and easy. Don't worry, this is still HP/RR and not HP/harem, although we haven't seen the last of the elves yet. I just wanted to contrast the radical difference in wizarding society and the other races.

I was planning on doing a druid scene in this chapter, but I had to much fun writing the dwarves and the chapter was starting to get pretty long at 5k words.


	7. Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter was created by JKR, I do not own the rights to any characters, nor do I pretend to.

* * *

Harry let out a great sigh. The school year just finished and the students were off back to their families. He himself just escorted a group of students to the designated gathering place in Hogsmede. After every kid was accounted for and gone, he made his way into the forest on the spur of the moment.

He really wanted to do this over the winter break but there was simply not enough time. He thought back to what Druid Adept Moon told him about locating the druids. He simply had to ask the forest, and if he was deemed worthy he would somehow find them.

Thinking back on how vague the druid's answer seemed like, he did the only thing he could think of.

"Uh, forest? I wish to meet with a druid." Harry called out uncertainly into the forest.

Harry noticed that the forest was unnaturally still, and then slowly he heard an unnatural wind blow through the trees.

He saw where the leaves on the trees were rusting so he walked over to them. As he got closer the leaves on trees farther away started rusting instead. So he went to those.

Harry figured out pretty quickly that the forest was leading him somewhere- either to his death, or to a druid grove. He wouldn't know until he got there.

He followed the sound of leaves all the way through the night, and the next day. There were no other sounds in the forest, and the weather was strangely calm. He didn't even feel the ever watching presence of the centaurs.

Harry found himself walking through very thick foliage and he was having a hard time moving through it.

After an hour of battling through the bushes, a very battered Artemis Entreri found himself in a large clearing.

In the middle of the clearing stood a tree.

Harry moved closer to the tree. When he stood only a few feet away he was startled to see that it was not a tree at all, but a person. An elf actually.

The elf was standing perfectly still, and was covered in bark. The camouflage was nearly perfect. Harry only noticed that it was not a tree when he saw the elf open its eyes.

Harry stood shocked for a few seconds until the elf spoke.

"The forest has heard your call and deemed you worthy. Now it is our turn to see if you are worthy. Follow me."

Harry had to listen very closely to hear what the elf was saying, it almost sounded like the wind itself. He saw the druid walk deeper into the forest so Harry did the only thing he could and followed him.

Harry wasn't sure how long they walked. It was almost reminiscent of the trip down into the Dwarven Realm. The trees let in no light at all so it was impossible to tell where the sun was in the sky.

After many hours of walking in silence, Harry was beyond hungry. But he dared not stop. He was hoping that this was some sort of test, and he wanted to pass it.

Slowly the trees began to thin and a clearing suddenly sprouted in front of them. Rays of forgotten sunlight shined down upon them as they entered it.

Harry saw a grizzled old elf walking towards them. The elf strangely reminded Harry of Alastor Moody; the face was chiseled and looked oddly like wood.

The elf spoke up. "Welcome Artemis Entreri, to the Grove of Airmed."

"I am honored, Great Elder." Harry replied instinctively.

"The Forest has brought you here, and I shall determine if your path lies with us."

The Elvish druid walked over to Harry and placed his gnarled hands onto Harry's head.

"Ah yes. Biological Immortality… but no sign of Elven blood, or vampirism, so it must be from a magic I am not aware of. It matters naught, you are still but a child in terms of age." The elf said no more, but Harry could feel the magic in the grove escalate.

Harry opened his eyes briefly and saw an amazing sight. The magic of the grove was literally coalescing in front of him, forming into a solid substance. Harry felt strangely at peace, and all his old wounds no longer ached. He felt as if a burden was lifted of his shoulders.

The old druid's hands remained on Harry's head for an indiscernible amount of time. That seemed to be a going trend with Harry, as it usually happened before momentous occasions.

Harry wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but he was still aware of everything going on around him. He could feel the magic pulsing through nature itself, and in turn he could feel the nature moving around him. It was almost like an out of body experience. He was awed by the experience.

* * *

"Wake up"

Harry was shaken gently. He slowly opened his eyes. He had the decency to look embarrassed.

"Sorry."

"It's fairly standard to fall asleep during the ritual." The old druid said.

"What exactly happened?"

"You are capable of becoming a member of our Grove. The forest has deemed you worthy, and now the magic has deemed you worthy. Now we see if I shall deem you worthy. Now stand up and be prepared to fight."

"Fight?" Harry asked nervously.

"Defend yourself!" The old elf conjured a rock with his hand and banished it at Harry.

Harry simply caught the rock in his hand before drawing his wand to banish it back.

The druid waved his hand and the rock split apart and flew back at Harry.

Harry wasn't expecting that but he managed to blow them up with a single blasting curse. He followed up with a few stunning charms which had no effect on the elf.

The elf moved his hands in a complicated matter and a large gust of wind blew Harry off his feet. He was about to get up when a small cyclone picked him up and knocked him on his ass once more.

Harry got to his feet and was about to dodge the tornado only to find himself unable to walk. He looked down and saw that his feet were tangled in vines.

"Diffindo!" He tried to cut the vines but he couldn't. He set them on fire instead and hoped the druid wouldn't kill him for that.

The druid didn't seem to care that his conjured vines were burnt. Instead he enlarged the tornado and sent it back at Harry. Many leaves were picked up and the made thin cuts all over Harry as they tore his clothes to shreds.

Harry was trying as hard as he could to not get himself ripped apart or lose. His only thought was 'This elf means business.'

"Depulso! Reducto!"

The reduction hex hit the druid in the shoulder, but the only thing Harry saw was bark flying off.

In response the druid dispelled the tornado with his hand and instead a wide cyclone formed around him. The slow moving cyclone picked up pieces of rocks and branches as they flew around.

Another wave of his hand and the druid called down rain from the sky.

Another wave and lightning crackled.

A wave of both hands and everything stopped. Not a sound was heard. The rocks and branches were frozen in mid air.

A clap of his hands and the forest floor erupted with growth. Trees grew 30 feet and small animals could be seen in the grass. Birds could be heard chirping.

A small gesture with his hand and the debris floating joined into one floating pile. The pile then glowed softly and when it was done glowing there was a robe floating in air.

"Congratulations, Initiate Entreri."

Harry stood there slack jawed. He didn't think he actually didn't anything to impress the elf, besides get his ass kicked handily.

"What should I call you?"

"My rank is that of Great Druid, so you may call me the Great One."

"How were you able to do all that without a wand?"

"Wands, initiate, are for wizards. We are druids. Remember the feeling, during the ritual, of the magic flowing around you? That is the answer."

Harry nodded his head meekly. He then noticed that it was _snowing_ out. "What the… when exactly is it?"

"It is the second moon cycle of wizarding year 997. The ritual took 7 months." The druid replied with a smirk. This was his favorite part.

Harry sputtered for several minutes. "7 months! I missed a whole semester of teaching, I'm probably sacked!"

"Usually the ritual takes a year, you are lucky."

Harry fumed for a few minutes.

"I was unaware, that you were unaware of this…"

"I simply came out here to learn more about Druids, I didn't think I was going to be initiated right away.

"Ah, a simple miscommunication. The forest told me that your intentions were to join us…"

"Well… eventually."

"Ah. Well sometimes the Forest does have a sense of humor. Nothing we can do about the past however, what's done is done."

"I was told by Adept Moon that the initiate process takes 7 years… Am I forced to stay here in the forest?"

"How else will you learn? You can't learn our art in the halls of a castle." The druid had a slight edge to his voice. "This was your choice, you could have left the forest at any time by simply turning around. You are here for 6 more years, there is no going back. The joining ritual ensures it. Once you reach the rank of Adept you may leave."

Harry cursed to himself. He could feel the nature of the druid ritual binding him to the Forest. He held hope that he could still communicate with the outside world, maybe through use of an owl? He severely hoped that his mission with watching Salazar wouldn't be compromised.

"You should be honored to be accepted into the grove, yet I see you simpering." The elder druid was pacing back and forth. There were several other druids now gathered around, watching. "If you don't get into the proper mindset, the next several years of your life are not going to be enjoyable. And remember, this was your choice."

Harry begrudgingly nodded his head. "What's my first lesson?" He then heard his stomach rumble. "On second thought, can we eat? It's been seven months since I've eaten…"

* * *

Harry spent several weeks just learning the rules, traditions, history, protocols, etiquette, and every other synonym without using his wand once. In fact, nearly none of the Druids had wands. Adept Moon was one of the exceptions because she wanted to learn wizard magic also. The Great Druid had a staff, but Harry was quite certain that is was a fairly standard quarterstaff and not a magical focus.

In fact, Harry did not use any magic at all until he learned the basic of their druidic language. The druidic language was a symbolic language and was very similar in use to runic magic, except you used your hands to draw symbols in the air instead of a wand. Instead of using your own personal magic through a wand, you focus the magic around you and not just yourself into the symbols. For someone as experienced as the 700 year old great druid, drawing the symbols was more natural than breathing itself.

Harry found out the hard way the true nature of the Druidic ritual he was bound too. He compared it to a reverse Fidelus Charm. Instead of keeping everyone out, it bound everyone inside. Harry couldn't leave until he was told the secret on how to leave. He only tried to walk out of the woods once and he was quite sure he was walking in a straight line, but the charm made it so he kept walking in a circle.

Harry did get the presence of mind to locate an owl to send off to the school. He was forced to ask one of the other druids to help command the owl since Harry hadn't yet started to learn how to communicate with nature. He did manage to locate something to write with and paper equivalent. He just hoped that the owl would make it to the school. He foolishly left some of his possession in his room there, including his sword, but he had his Hallows in his bottomless bag. He just hoped he wouldn't be too late in returning. The world didn't stop with his absence.

It would be almost 7 years later when he could return after all.

* * *

Author's notes

Things are going to start speeding up a bit. One of the upcoming chapters is probably going to be in Rowena's POV.

Do not confuse druidic magic for 'wandless' wizarding magic…

For those following my other stories:

HP and the Meaning of Life is going to be updated this week, I almost have the next chapter finished. That means no one needs to write reviews with their opinions on the A/N question. Also a preemptive warning for sexual situations…post battle vampiric bloodlust.

HPATR has a chapter half written, but I haven't worked on it in a few weeks.

I MIGHT get around to posting up the beginning of Polaris Black and the Philosopher's stone… it's an AU/year 3 diverging story…. I reedited it this week so it should be good to go for a few chapters. I'm not sure how I feel about having so many WIP, but oh well. The general synopsis is that Harry was raised as Polaris Black and is having trouble getting around the stigma of his name. Indy!Gifted!Harry.


	8. Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter was created by JKR, I do not own the rights to any characters, nor do I pretend to.

* * *

Rowena frowned to herself. Artemis Entreri did not show up at the castle for the beginning of the new school year. In fact no one has heard from him since the school let out for the summer. Also his room was still fully furnished with his belongings.

She and Godric even went to his property. They were surprised at what they found. There was a large building under construction in the middle of lake that certainly wasn't there last year. There was also a large tunnel with a large stream of carts moving in and out carrying rock. Not to mention the hundreds of dwarves.

Rowena cast a few spells to detect any wizarding presence, and got a negative. They quickly left the property before they would be noticed. They regrouped back at Hogwarts a few hours later.

Rowena called together a staff meeting. They had two new faculty members. One was filling the roll of groundskeeper and assistant herbologist. The other was teaching astronomy. Other classes were going to be put on a test run, such as enchanting, which would be taught by Salazar. There was brief talk of getting an oracle to give a few basic lessons, but nothing came from it yet

"Any new information on Artemis?" Helga asked.

"It looks like he is having a large building built on his property by dwarves. A tracing spell showed that no wizard had been there in several months."

"Interesting. When is the last confirmed sighting of him?"

"On the last day of school. He was seen leaving Hogsmede village after dropping the students off. I don't recall seeing him enter the castle."

"So he left somewhere between the village and the castle. But why would he leave all his belongings here?"

"Something unplanned must have happened. Maybe something urgent from his homeland? He hasn't told us much about his background…"

"What should we do about his classes?" Salazar asked. "I could teach some of the spell portion of the class."

Helga nodded her head. "Maybe you could get Adept Moon to help you with the animal portion? Reports showed that she was just as knowledgeable, if not more than Artemis was, with magical creatures. Not surprising really considering she is a druid.

Salazar nodded his head once. "We should probably leave his room the way it is, just in case he decides to turn up one day."

"Agreed."

* * *

The first half of the school year was actually quite bland. Artemis's class was one of the most liked when he taught it, but now it was just on par with the other courses.

Salazar was a decent enough teacher with Artemis's course, but it seemed as if some of the students were more afraid of him that the young instructor. Not that he blamed them.

He did find himself missing the late night lessons with Artemis though. It was refreshing to have another intelligent mind to talk with. After all the Four Founders have been friends since childhood and it was a nice change of pace.

Godric often found himself with nothing to do at nighttimes. The castle seemed emptier without Artemis around. He missed he mock sword and wand duels with him. He'd been training like that with Salazar his whole life, but the kid was a new sort of challenge. He hoped no ill had befallen the kid.

Helga missed the gentle nature of Artemis. It was hard to stay mad at him for any amount of time. If he messed up a potion, he would humble himself into the floor and try to correct his mistakes. She could tell that whoever taught him the art in the past was not a good instructor, but regardless Artemis tried his best, so she tried her best as well.

He was as valued as a friend as he was an instructor. But first and foremost he was an instructor. Hogwarts was still in its infantile years so they wanted to try to keep as consistent of a staff as they could. She hoped that Artemis would come back. She vowed to keep his room ready for the day he did.

Rowena found herself missing Artemis more than she thought she would. She really enjoyed the night lessons with him and he was turning out to be a great friend. There was a possibility of being more than friends, but she was unsure now that he was nowhere to be found.

She knew they both had demons in her past. But since he never asked about her past, she never asked about his. Everything went a lot smoother that way. Some wounds could only be healed with time, some maybe someday in the future they could talk about it. It may be those secrets that brought them as close as they became.

She did have the most peculiar feeling however. It was like a nagging at the back of your head where you are trying to think of a ward to use and it is on the tip of your tongue, but you just can't remember until the next day. It was with her magic. It was almost as if something _was_ off with it. She attributed it to too much reading and writing, and not enough usage.

* * *

Rowena was sitting in her study when she heard a _tap tap tap_ on the window.

She looked up in surprise. There was an _owl_ of all things tapping on the window, and it looked like it had something in its claws.

_Rowena and Friends_

_I feel obliged to inform you all that I have just woken up from a 7 month spell induced sleep. I find myself unwillingly initiated into a druid coven. I did not know the ritual would bind me to the coven for 7 years. I simply walked into the forest looking for answers, and I ended up meeting the Great Druid of the Grove. _

_I curse my brashness for not researching properly like I wanted to. However there is nothing I can do but wait out the 7 years. I only hope the world around me doesn't change too much in this time._

_The Great Druid told me that that the forest would not let me near the coven if I did not truly wish to learn from them. I find myself thinking that this may have been true in another 20 years, but perhaps this is what fate had planned for my instead of teaching. Fate has never been kind to me, but I find myself always triumphing in the end. My brain tells me that I've been had, but my heart tells me that I wanted this._

_I do find myself fascinated by druid magic. I am trying to convince myself that I really want this, and I don't think I have to do too much convincing. The magic the Great Druid can do with simply his hands is amazing. When I woke up I felt the very magic around me seemed to be drawn to my presence, it was awe inspiring. I find myself drawn to the primal magic more and more everyday…_

_The owl that carried this letter was convinced by one of the other druids here to fly it to you. Maybe you can think of a charm to turn owls into permanent carriers? I do not know if a return letter would be able to reach me, all I know is that I can't leave here._

_I will do my best to keep in touch. We will see each other again someday._

_-Artemis Entreri._

Rowena laughed out loud.

"Idiot. I even told him to go to the Great Library… and here he goes running off into the wilderness and gets himself bound to a 7 year ritual. That is exactly something Godric would do… brash and impulsive."

She read the letter one more time before deciding to show it to the others.

* * *

The other founders all agreed on one thing; Artemis must be related to Godric in some way. Clan Gryffindor is known for producing wizards and witches that are brash and impulsive, and often like to charge headfirst into situations without thinking it through. Their bravery is considered by some to be their greatest trait, but others consider it their worst.

Usually such foolishness would get a man killed. Some might consider Artemis lucky that he would live through his mistake and come out a better man from it. Then again, bogged down for 7 years of your life is not everyone's fancy. Especially for a young man with a lot of life left in him.

They all still agreed to hold onto Artemis's possessions for when he would eventually return. They were undecided on whether or not they would hire someone else to take over the class that he created.

* * *

It would be 5 years later when strife would start amongst the Hogwarts founders. Hogwarts circa 1002.

"How are you doing it Rowena?" Godric asked.

"Doing what?" she responded, not looking up from her heavy manual.

"You don't look a day over 20!" Godric suddenly shouted. "Look at me! I'm nearly goddamn 40 and nearly all gray. Salazar is showing signs of wear too, regardless of whatever ritual he fancies this week. Even Helga has wrinkles forming on her face. Merlin…we are all becoming old and you… you look pristine…"

"What are you suggesting?" Rowena half heartedly asked. She didn't like it when Godric was angry.

"I miss my family, my infant sons… I need someone…" Godric choked up at the thought of his deceased family. They were killed over 15 years ago… his 20 year old wife, 3 year old son and 1 year old daughter. Killed by a werewolf. His own wife begged for mercy, she didn't want to live as a _beast. _He had to oblige, because he loved her. Even the most noble of men have demons in their closet.

His son would be 18 years old now, and he pictured him looking like Artemis…

"No!" Rowena shouted, bringing him out of his reminiscing. "I… no."

"Why not? There used to be something between us…"

"Because… Because… I am not built for a family. I can't just settle down. You know me, I am constantly researching, reading, and discovering new and lost magic. I can't do that while having to look after a family. I'm sorry Godric. I love you, but only as a brother and friend. There might have once been something between us, but I was afraid at the time you would just use to me to remind yourself of Isabelle…"

"I…"

"I don't know why I still have my youth…but I am thankful. To answer your question I have done nothing. No magic at all."

It was true. She often wondered why she was seemingly unaffected by the sands of time. Her best friend Helga looked almost twice as old as Rowena did nowadays. Rowena's hair was still smooth black with not a single gray, nor any signs of thinning. Not a single wrinkle from age on her face, her breasts have not started to sag… All her skin was healthy and taut. No weary aches on her joints. She actually felt younger than ever.

"You don't wish to have a family of your own one day?" Godric asked

"I don't think I do." Rowena responded slowly. "I see how happy Helena makes my cousin…but I don't think I would have the same happiness with a child. My happiness comes from my work."

"I…See…" Godric responded. To say he was disappointed was an understatement. He knew Rowena was not the romantic type… Heck he was fairly certain that Rowena has never even slept with a man before, and they did have protective spells that normal humans didn't. He valued his friendship too much to push any further though. He would look elsewhere.

"I'm sorry Godric."

* * *

A few weeks later:

Helga, Rowena and Godric were all sitting at a table, discussing their fourth member; Salazar.

"He's subverting them, the whole lot." Godric fumed.

"What can we do?" Helga asked. She knew exactly what he was talking about, they all did.

"He has claimed his own apprentices, including his own son…." Godric trailed off for a second. "We could do the same."

"What do you mean?" Rowena inquired. "You want to turn this negative into a positive?" Rowena suddenly took out some parchment and began writing frantically.

"Since he has his own apprentices, we could each take our own. Maybe split the whole entire school into sections." Godric brainstormed.

"What would the criteria be for the sorting?" Helga asked, her interest peaked.

"Hmmm… maybe sort them by their outstanding traits. Rowena for example, is very clever, studious and smart, so maybe her portion of students would all be the same."

"And yours could be the brave, impulsive, and natural leaders." Rowena said, catching his trail of thought.

"Salazar already has all the ones with his same personality; sneaky, ambitious, cunning." Godric continued.

"I'll take the rest than. The hardworking and loyal." Helga finished.

"Should we call our groups something special?"

"House Ravenclaw works for me…" Rowena said. "It's straight to the point. My favorite colors are blue and bronze so that could be our colors."

"House Gryffindor will be red and gold." Godric replied with a smirk

"House Hufflepuff with be yellow and black. Salazar will most likely be green and silver"

"Sounds good. How do we sort them?" Godric asked.

"An enchanted object." Rowena responded. "One that can identify and categorize a person's most prominent character traits."

Godric jumped from his chair suddenly. "I know just the thing. My family has a jewel that can… Well I would need a more suitable object to transfer its powers into… like a hat. It would have to be a magical hat so I can transfer the jewels powers into it."

"I can create the hat." Helga said. "It will take a few weeks to create the proper spellweave, and turning it into a hat will be fairly simple."

"I will need you Rowena to cast permanency charms on it, both on the cloth and on the enchantments."

"I can do that."

"Excellent."

* * *

A few weeks later the three founders were standing around the Hat. They asked Salazar to join them but he was nowhere to be found.

"What exactly is that jewel, Godric?"

"It is an experiment of one of my descendants, quite a few centuries ago. He was tinkering around with how to make a painting animated. I don't know all the details of the process, but I know that the jewel has his essence in it. Not everything mind you, but just what he wanted in it. If you hold the jewel in your hand you can communicate with it."

"Is it safe?" Helga asked with concern.

"Absolutely. The leaders of my clan often consult with it, for it holds the personality of one of our wisest members. It is perfect for the task."

"Alright. Proceed."

The procedure of imbuing the Hat was very simple. Godric set up a ceramic cauldron and lit a super hot fire underneath it. Godric put the gem in the cauldron and waited for it to melt. When it melted, Godric merely threw the hat in watched the liquid gem fuse with the hat. After a brief flurry of spellwork by him and Rowena, the hat was complete.

"I guess we should see if the Sorting Hat works?" Rowena asked.

Godric shrugged and put the hat on.

"Ah Godric, I see your plan has worked. I must admit, being a hat is slightly more comforting than being a rock." The hat said to the room.

"Thank you Aluando. Hopefully you will have many thousands of children to sort into our magnificent school."

"I hope so too." The hat responded. "I shall do my best."

"Its name is Aluando?" Helga asked.

"Aluando Gryffindor the Third." Godric shrugged. "He was a contemporary of Merlin."

* * *

Hogwarts circa 1004.

The Sorting hat was a success. It didn't fix the problem of Salazar doing who knows what with his house, but it did prevent the problem from getting worse. The founders even set up a sort of competition based on how well one does in class. One would get points awarded for exemplary behavior, and points taken away for any insubordination. It brought some of the Slytherins back into the fold of the school.

It was not enough though. Even with the three founders and the other staff's efforts, Salazar was still walking down an increasingly dark path, and a lot of the times he wasn't even trying to hide it anymore. It was almost as if he did something that tweaked his personality just enough to make him seem like a completely different man from 10 years ago.

One day in the early summer, things came to a head.

"Dirty mudbloods, I'm glad to see the last of them gone." Salazar drawled, as he threw his cloak onto a rack. "Someone remind me why we teach the filth? I seemed to have forgotten…" He grabbed some food and started eating angrily.

Godric slammed his fist down on the table and jumped out of his seat. "Enough is enough! Merlin almighty Salazar, you don't need to go spitting that talk around every waking hour! It's really getting on my nerves. You know as well as I do that we teach ALL wizards and witches, because it is the proper thing to do! You know as well as I do that the blood in ones veins does not make you stronger than another, Rowena has proven that time and time again with her research."

"I don't give a damn about Rowena!" Salazar yelled. "These mudbloods have no respect for their magic. Their fling their magic around with thought of what it means, what it truly means! They have no lineage to keep them in their place and teach them! They disrespect us every time they go home and celebrate their mundane traditions."

"Teach them then Salazar! That's what we are here for. Show them our traditions. Show them what it means to be a magic user."

"What do you think I have been doing?" Salazar steamed.

"You've created a cult! You've brought 10 students who hold the same views as you. You may have taught them our traditions, but you have also turned them into bigots! They hate the mundane born as much as you do, that's all you have taught them!"

"All I have taught them?" Salazar scoffed. "I taught them much much more than that. I taught them how to take control of any situation. Like this!"

"Ossus Fragmenti!" Salazar screamed.

Godric dived out of the way.

"I think it is time for you to leave here Salazar. Your teaching skills no longer outweigh your abrasiveness." Godric said, pulling himself off the ground

"Make me leave then, old friend!" He taunted. He sent another bone breaker at Godric.

"I don't want to do this, but you leave me no choice. I do this for the children!" Godric banished a chair and blew it apart, and then quickly transfigured the wood pieces into metal balls.

Salazar had to duck out of the way, but he dived into a forceful banisher. Salazar rolled with the hex and stood up quickly.

"Flagrante Lacero!" Salazar shot the fire cutter at his best friend, but it went a little wide.

While Godric dodged the curse, he was transfiguring all the chairs into animals. Salazar was trying to demolish them but he couldn't keep up.

"Incendra Inflatus!" Salazar screamed not a second to early. The forceful nova spell destroyed the last few remaining transfigurations before he would get overwhelmed.

"Let's do this like proper men!" Godric yelled. "Like old times!"

"Have it your way." Salazar drew his sword and advanced on Godric.

Godric pulled out his famed goblin crafted sword and charged at Salazar.

Their swords met in the middle with fierce swings, and a small shockwave erupted from the two magical blades.

Godric was quicker on the redraw and slashed sideways in a wide arc, but Salazar managed to dodge backwards quickly enough and gave quick thrust.

Godric spun out of the way and continued into an uppercut thrust, which Salazar dodged again. Godric jumped back and they faced off.

Salazar charged in and with a surprisingly quick thrust he nicked Godric's left shoulder. He paid it no heed as he gave a wide cleave in response. Salazar continued forward with his thrust and rolled behind Godric to dodge the cleave.

"First blood." Salazar grinned.

"But not the last!" Godric roared. He made a jumping cleave and Salazar had no choice but to give a heavy block with his sword. He just barely held it off.

However Godric gave a quick twirl, and with a lightning quick motion that showed his years of extensive training, he slashed deeply underneath Salazar's sword and right across his stomach. Blood sprayed onto the wall in a wide arc.

Salazar showed a look of shock. "You-"

"I'm sorry friend. For the Greater Good." Godric plunged his sword through Salazar's chest.

As Salazar crumpled to the ground, the doors to the Great Hall opened. Godric spun on his heels to face the new intruders with adrenaline still pumping.

Rowena rushed into the room. "Godric, guess who finally came back! It's Artemis… Oh my, what happened?!"

Just as Rowena and Artemis walked into the hall, Salazar gave one last breath.

"I'm sorry too." And with one last quick motion of his arm, he threw a dagger straight into Godric's back.

"Urgh" Godric gurgled once before falling onto his face.

"No!" Rowena and Artemis yelled. They both ran to Godric.

Artemis inspected the wound briefly. "I think I can heal this."

Without waiting for Rowena to respond, he opened up his satchel, looking for something to heal the cursed wound.

He pulled out a plain looking leaf and crumbled it up. With a wave of his hand he levitated the cursed dagger out of the wound and placed it on the ground. With his other hand he sprinkled the crushed plant into the wound.

"Stand back please." Artemis said. He brought his hands in front of him, outstretched. He spoke a few command words, and in front of him a large glowing ball formed. He guided the ball down into Godric's back. Once the glowing ball of energy was completely absorbed he ripped off the rest of Godric's tunic and placed his palms directly on Godric back.

With a few muttered words his hands started glowing once again. He drew one last symbol on Godric's back and with a burst of light the wound closed itself.

Artemis let go a sigh of relief. "He'll live. I wonder what happened here…"

"I guess Salazar and Godric finally came to blows, it's been a long time coming if you ask me. I am glad Godric won, but at the same time…"

Godric groggily woke up. "That bastard! He better be dead!" He stood up.

"Hey slow down Godric, don't move too much you were severely injured." Artemis scolded.

"Salazar…His body….It's gone!" Godric suddenly shouted.

"What!" Rowena yelled. "How?"

"No…No… I'm, too late." Artemis mumbled to himself. "Maybe not. Godric stay here. I think I know where he went. If my hunch is correct, he has performed a ritual, the darkest of rituals. I only hope I am wrong."

Harry ran off down the hall. "Chamber of Secrets…" he mumbled to himself.

He ran all across the second floor looking for a possible entrance but he couldn't find one. He then remembered that particular bathroom didn't yet exist.

Thinking quickly, Harry tried to apparate down into the tunnel, but he was met with fierce wards. He was rebuffed hard and crashed into the floor. He picked himself and ran towards the dungeons. Maybe Salazar had a passage down there?

He ran down stairs and Rowena caught up with him. They both kept running.

"Where are we going?"

"I think he has a Secret Chamber down here."

"It's more than likely. He has his own cult of followers, but we have never been able to find where they have been practicing their dark arts.

Harry didn't respond. Instead he calmed down his inner self and reached out with his druidic senses. He detected faint traces of magic in the deserted corridor. He changed his path and followed the magic as it slowly got stronger.

After about 15 minutes the came to a rock tunnel. They followed it for a few hundred feet before it opened up into a large chamber.

"We've found it. Eyes sharp, wand ready. Constant vigilance…" Harry whispered.

Ahead of them was a lab of sorts. Cauldrons, alembics, crucibles, and retorts all littered the tables. There were shelves on the walls filled with dusty tomes.

There was a lone figure frantically running around.

With a primal scream Artemis darted forward. He reached outward with his hand and called forth his Blade. Thankfully the sword was close enough for him to do that.

The cultist saw Harry as soon as he entered the. With a quick incantation the cultist cast a spell at a large stone sitting on a blood covered altar. The resulting large magical burst knocked the occupants of the room onto the ground.

An unearthly voice filled the room. "Take the book, boy, and run. I'll buy you time."

"That was Salazar." Rowena said fearfully.

Sure enough, a specter Salazar was standing in front of them. The gem on the altar was emitting a beam of magic into him. And before their very eyes, Salazar was once again whole. They then saw a body they didn't notice before strapped to the altar

"Artemis… This is your one chance to join me."

"Impossible!" Rowena yelled before Harry could answer. "I saw you die!"

"As you can see," Salazar continued, ignoring her outburst. "I have transcended the natural law. I did die, but I am whole once more. You cannot kill me!" Salazar picked up a sword seemingly from a rip in the air.

Instead of charging in with the phantom sword, he used it to cast a spell at Harry.

Artemis dived out of the way. Salazar charged the small gap between the two and sliced down with the spectral blade.

Harry quickly parried the sword blow, and with his other hand he sent a powerful gust of wind at the older wizard.

Not expecting the wind, Salazar was flung into the bookshelf. He looked around and saw that his apprentice finally left the room. He gathered himself up and fired another spell at the returned wizard.

Harry knocked the unknown spell out of the air with his sword. Instead of countering with it he announced. "I don't have the patience for these games anymore!"

He charged to the altar. Artemis swung down with his sword. In seemingly slow motion the magical sword smashed the gem into small pieces.

"NOOO! Do you know what you have done fool!" Salazar screamed.

"Yes I do. I destroyed your abomination of nature, your horcrux." Harry spat the last word.

Salazar's eyes widened with realization. "My work will live on! My son has left, and with him my work. You cannot possibly understand what I have achieved!" With that final word Salazar crumpled to the ground.

"Is he dead?" Rowena asked tentatively.

Harry closed his eyes and let his magical senses wander. "Yes, this time for good."

"What was that…"

Harry quickly remembered the urgency of the situation. "Quick, there's no time. We have to search these journals to see what his son took. He couldn't have taken too much, probably just the most important one. He bragged to me once about how organized his research was… The journal will be about immortality and something called a Horcrux."

Rowena heard the urgency and panic in Artemis's voice. She quickly scoured the shelves looking for any signs of the topics.

A half hour later and a lot of cursing brought no results. "Damn it all, it's gone. The magic trail is stale too; I could never track him…" Harry swatted a glass container off a table, and sighed as he slid down the wall frustrated.

"What is the significance of a horcrux? I am not familiar with the term…" Rowena hesitantly asked. She didn't like not having answers.

"It is the darkest of soul magic. He once told me that he was looking for a way to rip a person's magical core out of their soul… but it looks like he found a way to gain immortality instead. The way he did it defiles everything nature stands for. It is not just my duty as a druid to rid the earth of such creations, but my duty as a wizard."

"How did you know he was creating one?"

Harry just shook his head. There was no way to explain that without lying. "I have to find that journal. Only the darkest of wizards would dare to use it, but it is those wizards that can doom the whole world. The wizard that came after me when I was young was one such wizard. I need to put a stop to it before it gets out of hand. I'm sorry I can't stay longer, but I have to do this."

Harry saw the look of despair come across Rowena's face when he said he couldn't stay. "We will meet again."

"Couldn't you stay for a little bit? You should at least check up on Godric, you did save him from certain death." Rowena pleaded. "Helga would love to see you…" Rowena left out any hint of how much she _wanted_, no, _needed_ to talk to him. About anything. There was just something about him…

For a brief moment Harry took a look at Rowena. 'She hasn't aged a day… and neither have I…' He would ponder that when he had time. He had all the time in the world, yet time was of the essence if he wanted to recover the horcrux journal. "Salazar split his soul into two pieces… Doing such an act turns you into a monster. Has he had a major personality change?" Harry asked with urgency.

Rowena looked up in alarm. "Yes, he changed extremely a few years ago. He turned from an annoying bigot into downright cruel and unbearable."

"Damn." Harry whispered to himself. "Years… That's an awfully long time for his notes to be lying around…"

He was about to apparate out, but he paused and turned around. He walked over to Rowena, and tilted her chin up. "Don't cry, please. I shouldn't be gone that long. Hopefully not another 7 years." He laughed to himself. She didn't laugh back. Not knowing what else to do, he slowly moved his head forward.

Rowena saw that Artemis slowly moved his head forward so she moved hers forward to and captured him in a kiss.

Harry savored the feeling of the kiss. It was delicate and subtle, but very long lasting. He slowly drew away. "Until next time." He apparated out to Diagon Alley.

Rowena collapsed against the wall. For a brief moment her magic screamed in ecstasy, only to have that feeling taken away. She felt emptier than ever.

* * *

After composing herself, Rowena made her way back into the main castle.

"Rowena!" Godric shouted. He attempted to rise from the chair, but Helga kept him sitting. "I was so worried…"

"He's dead. Salazar is dead for good. Artemis finished him off, but his son got away with one of his darkest journals. Artemis went off after him…" Rowena sobbed.

"That bastard Salazar deserved it; he wouldn't leave without fighting me."

"Yeah, but he was once a friend of all of us. Where did we go wrong?" Helga asked no one in particular.

"It's not us. We try so hard for the children…" Rowena trailed off.

"Oh… you are in love with him aren't you" Godric suddenly laughed. "It all makes sense. You've been waiting for 7 years for Artemis to come back, and he's gone again, isn't he?" Godric said softly. "Like a knight coming to slay a dragon to save the princess…"

"He kissed me." Rowena whispered back. "I waited 7 years for that kiss and I finally got it… And…" She seemed unable to finish her thought.

Godric noticed the uncomfortable silence. "What is so important about this journal?"

"It holds the key to the darkest of immortality rituals. Artemis said that it contains steps to rip your soul into two pieces… beyond that I do not know. Truly evil magic."

"And Artemis is chasing after the man, to stop anyone else from getting hold of the book?"

"Yeah."

"I should be out there with him." Godric moved to get up again, but was once again held firmly down by Helga.

"You are in no condition to do anything. Artemis might have healed the cursed wound, but you are still very damaged. You should wait at least a day before even using magic again."

Godric groaned. "I'm not as young as I used to be…" he mumbled to himself. "I should have never been hit."

* * *

The next night at the staff dinner Rowena had an announcement.

"I'm leaving my post." She announced to the hall.

All the other professors voiced their outcries.

"This is no longer my calling… As much I enjoy teaching the students, my true calling is research. I need to explore the world and discover magic in its entirety. I am being held back here. Blood already has stained our floors, one of my best friends has slain another of my best friends…I need a break." She held her tears back in the best as she could. Her first trip was going to be to the library at Azkaban. She needed more information on horcruxes…

Godric slowly nodded his head. He feared that with Salazar's betrayal their harmonious group would fall apart. "You know you will always be welcome here. Helga and I along with the rest can manage this place."

* * *

A/N

I guess I should point out that there is more than one druid grove and Harry and Moon are not in the same one. Both their leaders just happen to be over 700 years old. That's about as much as I can say without giving away too much

And before anyone asks, the Sorting Hat is not a horcrux, it is more down the lines of a wizarding portrait which is more like a pensieve of sorts. At least in this story anyways.

I apologize for this chapter being more 'telling' than 'showing', but if I am honest with myself I am not very good at writing non-harry!centric…

While it is not uncommon for modern wizards to live past 100, I figure that, like muggles, their life expectancies were once lower. I figure an average life expectancy of someone in the 1000's to be about 40, and a wizard to be 60. Wikipedia actual shows medieval Britain to be about 20-30… I figure the same harshness of the time also effects the wizards to some extent…war, famine, and general bad hygiene. The founding of Hogwarts and the following years is when things start to look up for wizarding society… eventually.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry had a few ideas on how to continue, each as bad as the next. He decided to get some advice from Old Man Ollivander, and hopefully not get his ass chewed out for being an idiot and botching up the whole reason for the time-travel in the first place.

He apparated into a secluded section of Diagon alley and made his way over to the old wand shop. The tinkle of a bell rang out as he entered through the door.

Ollivander didn't bother with the theatrics as he greeted Harry. "Ah, Artemis, I wondered how long it would be before you came here. Alas, 7 years as a druid…"

"I got a problem." Harry said, skipping the formalities. "Salazar's dead but his son escaped with his journal with his notes on Horcruxes…"

"Ah. Well, nobody is perfect." The old man replied nonchalantly. He didn't look up from the blank wand he was carving at.

"That's… That's it?" Harry asked incredulously.

"No. It looks like there is nothing for it but damage control. An immortal man is not likely to stay quiet for long… just wait for them to pop up and then take them out."

Harry sighed. "So another Horcrux hunt, except this time I got no leads and no time frame."

"Essentially correct. But you can go looking for the man. When there is a will there is a way."

"I've been trying. I am convinced he is out of the country, everyone I ask has not seen him, which isn't really surprising."

"Well, before you leave the country, I suggest you take care of business on the home front first. Visit your tower, visit Rowena at Hogwarts… " The old man smirked and gave a hand motion that was common in the future for 'tosser'.

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Dirty old man…I wouldn't mind seeing more of Rowena though…'

"Maybe take a trip to Azkaban to learn a thing or two, find some spells to help you track that man across the sea. You will find that Azkaban is a somewhat popular place, there are a few dozen people there at any given time, learning what they can from the ancient trove of knowledge. I wouldn't hold your hopes too high for finding any secret knowledge though, the texts are all imported and the chief cataloguer knows everything that is there."

Harry nodded is understanding. "Right, so no obscure magic."

"I didn't say that. I said that you won't find anything that no one else will not already know. There is a future term for it… I believe 'public domain'?"

"Got it." Harry said. "Well, I guess I better get going. I've been gone for too long."

Harry apparated away. His first stop was his new tower.

* * *

Harry arrived at the shore of is lake.

"Welcome to Isengard!" he said out loud when he saw the impressive tower.

He looked over to where he remembered the Dwarven construction tunnel was. In its place was a large set of metal doors, with Dwarven writing etched on it. Harry decided he would pay a visit to the King later, and hoped that he wouldn't be too mad. It has been over 7 years since they last met. There could be a new king for all he knew.

Harry walked along the edge of the lake until he came across a boat. He took another look at the outside of the tower. He had to bend his neck all the way to see the top of it. It was a deep stone gray and black color. It was hard to tell the difference between the stone and metal that the tower was made from- the dwarves seemed to have blended the two, almost like an alloy. Large carved runes could be seen written all the way up the sides symmetrically. They glinted mysteriously in the sun even when it was behind clouds.

Harry spied a hole in the wall of the tower at water level, so he stepped in the boat and rowed for it.

When got closer to it, he realized it was what he thought it was. Inside the hole was a boat landing. He carefully steered the small boat next to the dock and tied it up. He saw a moderately sized metal door off to the side of the boat landing so he made his way to that.

There was no visible handle on the door that Harry could see. He did see a large glowing circle in the middle of the door though, and on a hunch he placed his hand on it.

He felt his skin tingle as the door's magic did something to him- he wasn't sure what. Whatever it was though, the magic apparently approved of him as the door swiveled open.

Harry walked into a grand entrance room. The room seemingly took up the whole level of tower and the walls were well over 100 feet apart. The dwarves even went out of their way to furnish the place. Harry didn't exactly have a good eye when it came to taste, but the Dwarven style was not too horrible. Still, he could see that he could use a woman's keen eye to redecorate the place eventually.

Harry wasn't picky on the styling though. After all he lived in a cupboard for the first 10 years of his life. He did give a soft chuckle at the barrel kegs piled in the corner. From what he remembered of the Dwarven Kingdom, barrels were more common than chairs.

Making his way through the entrance room, he discovered the staircase on the outer perimeter of the tower. He walked up it, and came to the conclusion that it went up the whole side of the tower.

He sighed to himself. "That is a lot of stairs… nearly a mile high."

Luckily Harry was a wizard so it should not be too hard to circumvent the stairs if the dwarves didn't leave some contraption laying about.

After walking up what seemed like several hundred steps Harry arrived at the first main floor. This floor seemed like the main dining area. There was a very large table with many chairs.

Harry shook his head. He didn't think he would ever have enough people in his life to fill up that table. There was also a separate appropriately sized kitchen that was modern for the time period but that wasn't saying much. He decided he would most likely convert another random room to a smaller dining room for just himself.

He then noticed the windows that encircled the whole room. Harry didn't notice them from the outside, but he could not tell if they were magic or not. Still, it was quite amazing, especially with the view of the lake around them. He was about 30 feet off the water and he could see straight down the bottom of the lake. He was surprised at all the wildlife he could see; fish, turtles, plants- all in amazing colors that you would normally associate tropical climates.

Cutting his sightseeing short he made his way up to the next floor. This time though he did find an alternate to the stairs. There was a contraption in one remote area of the circular room. He pulled on a lever and the distinct sound of a chain could be heard, and a few seconds later a Dwarven lift appeared in front of him.

It reminded him of the sketchy looking Dwarven drilling machines and he wondered how such a thing could work. But then again, not once did Harry see a single Dwarven machine break down. If there is one thing to be learned from Dwarven Engineering, it's that things _just work_. They just do. It was unwise to question it so Harry got inside the odd lift.

In front of him was a long panel filled with small levers and toggles. He noticed that the second one from the left was toggled down, while the rest were up. Harry deduced that that was because he was on the second floor. He toggled the third switch up, and sure enough the lift cycled up the chain pulley and he arrived on the third floor.

He walked off of the Dwarven lift. This floor was another open room. It seemed to be some sort of large lounging area with a lot of furniture. There was also a large hearth at one end of the room. Harry didn't spend too much time here. He went up to the next floor.

The next floor had a series of bedrooms. Each room was extravagant for the time period, each with their own bed and washroom with Dwarven plumbing… which was surprisingly modern. The onyx walls contrasted with the light color of the furnishings. The quality of the pedestal sink alone was amazing. There was a carved motif up the whole thing, and it was inlaid with many different gems, such as mother of pearl. This kind of quality was the norm for the whole tower. Even the Malfoy's would be jealous of the exuberance.

And it was all his, paid for with his own money.

The next several dozen floors were all the same. Harry briefly thought that maybe a mile high tower was a little too much- 90% of it would never be used.

However, he eventually got to some of the more practical and interesting rooms. Three levels of the structure were completely dedicated to library shelving, although it was completely empty. Harry would eventually put the books from the future Black Library there. The books were almost completely unused and he slightly regretted taking them back in time, but now was not the time to dwell on the past…future.

The floor above that was some sort of lab. It had many tools that Harry saw down in Salazar's chambers, many which were used for alchemy such as alembics, calcinators and such. Harry had next to no knowledge in that area at the current time so he moved on.

There was a training chamber on the next floor, or rather the potential for one. It was a large open room with a lot of Dwarven machinery that Harry would try and figure out, but the looks alone were not enough to know what they did. The other half of the room had a padded floor and a raised dueling stage… for dueling. If he had a partner it might have been useful.

The floor above that was the master bedroom. The size of the bed itself was ridiculous, but the furnishings of the room were even more elaborate than the rest of the tower. Much of it was made out of solid one piece crystal. There was very little wood to be found, nearly the whole tower was made from materials dug from the ground. There were windows similar to the ones he found on the large dining hall several thousand feet below.

The view from this height was simply astonishing. On one side Harry could see all the way out to the sea. On the other side he had a view of mountains and rolling hills. The forests were very beautiful, along with the gently meandering streams that could be seen flowing here and there. He could even see fields being worked by peasants.

Harry gazed out the windows for nearly an hour before he checked out the top level. The top level of the tower was a large area opening directly into the heavens. The Dwarves had the smarts to put railings up; falling from a mile in the sky could hurt. In the center was a large area that was raised about another 25 feet from the current floor, and it itself was the highest point on the tower. There was a staircase that followed that outside of the raised area that led to the top.

Harry walked up these stairs. This raised area had no railing. Harry stood at the top, but was very cautious. He was unsure of what kind of crosswinds to be expected at this height. He stood in absolute awe as he watched the sun set behind the horizon. The normal color of the sun changed from blazing fury into a silent farewell as he watched on. The experience was more surreal than anything he has ever seen in his 25 years of life, even more surreal than learning he was a wizard and visiting Diagon Alley for the first time.

After the light faded to black he made his way back down to the master bedroom. He managed to fall asleep, but not before realizing how lonely he was feeling in the world. The large expanse of the room only served to prove that point. He then realized that maybe it didn't have to be so. He fell asleep to the image of one particular witch…

* * *

"Rowena!" Harry yelled as he woke up. "Rowena… I got to find you."

Harry packed his bag for a trip to Hogwarts. He didn't have to be alone. He was remembering that brief lingering kiss they shared before he left Hogwarts…

After packing his bottomless bag with his essentials, he apparated to the front entrance of Hogwarts. He knocked on the massive doors.

After a few minutes of waiting the door opened. Out stepped a healthy looking Godric Gryffindor. "Ah Artemis, your back!" he slapped Harry on the back. "Come in, Come in…"

Harry greeted the founder in kind. "Is Rowena here?" he asked as he took a seat at the great table.

"No… I am afraid she has resigned her post. She mentioned a few things though, such as wanting to learn more about the secrets of magic. Not really surprising… I suspect she has travel to the Azkaban Library. However, I am most curious about what you have been doing?"

"Ah, well, I ran into some druids and I completed the initiation process after 7 years. Now though, I am chasing after Salazar's son who has a book on very dark magic that I need to destroy." Harry said lightly.

"You're a druid now you say? Fascinating. Tell me about it." Godric asked.

So Harry regaled him with various stories from his training for about an hour. After that though they got back to the topic of Salazar's son.

"So you need to destroy an evil book that contains the darkest of magic?" Godric summarized.

"That is correct. Salazar's son made off with it. It contains a method to make yourself immortal."

"Immortality!" Godric spat. "Lot of good it did Salazar… Immortality will turn the best of people into a monster."

"The way Salazar achieved it did turn him into a monster… He tore apart his own soul." Godric shivered. Harry wasn't going to mention the other known methods of immortality he knew off- the Hallows and Philosopher's stone.

"I am afraid that I do not know of a way to track a wizard who is most likely not even on this island anymore. I can hazard a guess that any method you come across is most likely going to require some of the man's possessions. The magic itself… well I suggest you take a trip to the Azkaban library. Sorcerers have been going there for decades to research the finer points of magic."

"Have you ever been there?" Harry asked.

"Only once. The man who oversees the island… he is something else. He may be the most cordial man I have ever come across. It is in that sense that there was something off about him… he was too nice."

A contemplative look came across Harry's features. "I see. Well, can you show me to Salazar's son's quarters? What is his name anyways?"

"His name? Sighard… Sighard Slytherin. Follow me, I'll show you his room."

After a familiar walk down into the dungeons they entered into the plain room of Sighard Slytherin. There was nothing outstanding at all about the room, but there was some clothes scattered about. Harry put some of them into his bag.

* * *

Harry didn't stay long at Hogwarts, especially since Rowena was not there. He stayed for dinner, recovered all of his own possessions that were still there, and then left. He was making his way towards Azkaban island, somewhere in the North Sea. He was riding on his broomstick, hoping to catch a glimpse of the rocky fortress from air.

He flew around for the better part of the day before he finally found the place.

Azkaban was a stone fortress built right into the island. It was exceptionally well built and cheerful looking, nothing like what it would be in the future.

Harry guided his broom slowly down into a large courtyard. There were many scholarly looking wizards there already, lounging around and reading, every last one of them with an absurdly long beard. He didn't see any signs of Rowena amongst them, or any other women for that matter.

When he landed no one paid him more than a second glance. He briefly wondered if flying in by broom was a more popular choice over floo travel. He walked through the open door at one end of the courtyard. He saw other people coming and going through it so it seemed like the right direction.

Harry was correct with his assumption. He followed the basic signs until he came across a very old looking man with a very cheerful demeanor. He was sitting behind an ancient desk, reading an even more ancient text.

"Excuse me? Are you the keeper here?" Harry asked.

"I may be good sir. How can I help?"

"I am looking for Rowena Ravenclaw. I heard she was here."

"She was, but now she is not. Dear Rowena left naught but two days ago. Is there anything else I can do to help?"

Harry silent cursed himself for being too late to see Rowena. "Yes. In fact, I am looking for a spell that can help me track a man over a very long distance."

"I see…" The man thought about it for a few seconds. "Follow me."

The man got up and they slowly walked over to a large shelf. "There be some magic in these books to help you on your goal. Delve not too deep into them; it would not be due to lose yourself in the ancient magics…" A dark look flashed across the old man's face along with brief glint of red in the eyes, but it was gone as quick as it came. It was so quick Harry had to wonder if he was just seeing things.

"Thank you for your help." Harry responded. The old man just waved him off and went back to his desk.

Harry took a look at the books he was shown. Many of them had no titles, or titles that have long since faded away.

He picked up the first book at random. He frowned as he was greeted with a grotesque image of a man being skinned alive. Nevertheless, he leafed through the entirety of the book before deciding that what he was looking for was not in it.

He settled himself at the library for a long day of research.

* * *

A long day of researched turned into nearly a month of constant reading. There were many rooms at the Azkaban Fortress though, for a price. Many wizards stayed at the place for long periods of time so he was not out of place.

Harry found a suitable spell for his purpose about a week into his research. It was in one of the books that would be labeled 'dark' in the future. It was not a spell, rather a mix of a ritual and enchanting.

The ritual involved the use of several potion ingredients, drawn runes, a few spells, some oddly scented candles, and his own blood. He also had to sacrifice some of Sighard Slytherin's possessions during the ritual using an odd cauldron with ritual blood runes drawn on it. After the ritual was done, the magic manifested itself in an object of the caster's choosing. And after even more spells, the enchantment was complete. It was essentially a compass after all was said and done.

Harry didn't fully understand the mechanics of the slightly dark ritual, but he decided as long as he followed the instructions to the letter nothing could go wrong. It was a very dangerous thing to do, but Harry has done more foolish things in his past, why stop now? Regardless of his inexperience, he managed the ritual successfully.

Harry planned on continuing his hunt as soon as he finished the magical compass stone, but he decided since he was there, he might as well read up on various other stuff. After all, Azkaban wasn't a library in the future, so that meant it disappeared at some time.

There was no single field of magic that Harry studied during the next three weeks; a little of this, a little of that. Regardless, he walked away with a little more knowledge than what he arrived with. He just hoped he didn't waste his time leaning spells and theory that he would never use. Everything he read had a purpose in his mind. It was similar to his cramming session during the Triwizard tournament.

* * *

Harry had enough of reading. His body was aching for a change in scenery. He decided that before he leaves the country that he had one last place to visit; his friend the Dwarven King Thothic.

Harry apparated out of the Azkaban library to his Tower. He would have to find a name for the place eventually, or maybe the King named it? Either way he couldn't keep calling it by 'my tower', it sounded bad. He made his to the heavy doors that guarded the entrance to the Dwarven Kingdom.

He examined the door for a few minutes, staring at the gorgeous motifs carved into to the stone and metal. Harry shrugged his shoulders to himself and placed his hand on the door. A brief flash of light shone from the cracks in the door as they opened for him.

One by one the Dwarven steam powered lights turned on. There was no quick travel system so Harry took out his broom and flew the distance. It was on odd experience flying down a tunnel several miles underground. He could have apparated, but one lessons you don't want to learn the hard way is to never apparate into a dangerous or unknown situation. He hadn't been there in 7 years after all; he had no idea what awaited him.

Harry had to slam on his airbrakes as the door guarding the ancient Dwarven City of Kilgirn came upon him very fast. He stopped with inches to spare. He got off his broom and knocked on the heavy door several times.

As with the first time Harry visited, a small slot appeared in the door and a dwarf peered through it, closed it back up, and opened the door.

"Ah, friend Artemis. The King be wondering when you be showing up."

"How did you know it was me?"

"You be the only one who can come down that tunnel, besides one of us of course." The dwarf responded.

"Ah, that makes sense I suppose."

"Follow me lad, I will bring you to the King."

Harry followed the dwarf through the city. The city itself was much the same at first glance. However, the city as a whole had a slightly dull feeling to it, almost as if the bronze was tarnishing. There was also a noticeably less amount of dwarves walking around.

They arrived at the Iron Citadel after a few more minutes of sightseeing. The large room was a rowdy as he remembered last time. He saw the familiar, but slightly older, face of his friend King Thothic.

"Artemis me lad, been a long time it has." The King stood up and grabbed Harry's hand with both his and gave an enthusiastic shake.

"Good to see you." Harry responded.

"Is this a social call?" the King asked with a twinkle in his slightly glazed over eyes. "Sorry to say, but Princess Israniel hasn't been here in several years." He gave out a booming laugh that slowly turned into a slightly remorseful chuckle.

"I am just here to talk with you, and talk about the world in general. I've been out of the loop for seven years. I got caught up in a druid initiation ritual..." Harry emitted a slight blush.

"I think that be a story better told over some ale!" The King jumped up and clapped his hands twice. A large contingent of kegs was rolled in by some Dwarves, thankfully fully clothed males this time. Harry thanked Merlin for the small favors.

Harry chuckled at the enthusiastic dwarves. Not one to insult the Kings hospitality, he took up the offered mug. He did pace himself this time; it wasn't his goal to get plastered. He told his story, and all the Dwarves seemed to laugh and clap at the appropriate times. They approved of his story telling, which was a high compliment since Dwarves can be some of the greatest story tellers in the world if you get them drunk.

After the story was done, Harry carefully steered the topic of discussion over to the wellbeing of Dwarves in general.

The King hesitated only briefly before talking. "We be dying out… barely any children are being born. Fighting a war on three fronts it feels like, the cave-gnolls, rival dwarves, and ourselves. I believe we can make it through this, but our population will never be the same, we are abandoning many cities, I fear that this will eventually be the last one in this region of the world."

"It's a shame. Can you not ask for help?" Harry naively asked.

"Who would give it, my friend? The elves are facing similar problems with in-fighting. Humans? Humans have never cared about us before, why would they start now."

"If there is anything I can do, please tell me." Harry replied with earnest.

The King gave a contemplative look in reply. "I have to think on it. Anyways… The goblins population be just as erratic, with them going to war constantly. Merfolk are of no help to anyone… No lad, we be alone. We will persevere, we must."

They sat for a few minutes in silence, nursing their mugs of ale.

"Let us talk about more pleasant topics shall we?" The King said, breaking the silence.

"My tower. It is…" Harry paused for a second. "Sorry, my Human words cannot describe the masterpiece. Does the tower have a name?"

"Thank ye for the compliment. I had many a good lad working on it. The name? It be Duergen, the Dark Monolith."

"It's perfect." Harry said after some thought. "I could not help but notice the runes carved up the side… What do they do?" Harry asked with curiosity.

"They do many things." The King said, looking proud of his work . "The tower is indestructible with those runes. They also control malevolent weather. The magic from the tower will also act as a preservation tool, the lands around with grow healthy for many years to come and be less effected by disease. That reminds me, at the top of the tower is a control stone for you to identify yourself with. You can control access to the tower. Anyone you do not want to see your land will not."

"That is very powerful magic."

"Aye. There is so much magic going into that tower of yours that it is essential a magical leyline."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked sheepishly.

"It means that there is an overconcentration of magic in the area. All magic cast in the area will be amplified and more concentrated. You will essentially attract magic from the magic Duergen is constantly channeling if you are near enough."

"Oh." That sounded like a good thing to Harry.

The King explained a few more of the runes to Harry. He was once again surprised by Dwarven ingenuity and thoughtfulness. At the end of the day, Harry had a request for the King.

"I am going out of the country for awhile. I do not know when I will be back. I wish to acquire more of the land around the tower, do you think you can handle that for me?"

"It will be a pleasure." The King responded as they shook hands. Harry apparated back to his tower.

* * *

Harry went straight for the control gem in his tower. It was in the master bedroom. The King explained to him carefully how to set the pseudo-wards. He set his lands to be undiscoverable to everyone except himself, Rowena, the Dwarven King, Elvish Princess, Goblin Chief, and the Great Druid of his grove. Harry watched in awe as a ripple of magic washed away from the tower and coated the lands. Duergen was now essentially its own pocket reality, but still connected to the Earth.

He repacked his bottomless bag for the inevitable cross-continent journey to track down Sighard Slytherin. With one last look around the tower he apparated to the furthest south of Britain that he could, and then mounted his faithful broom once again.

After a few hours he was at the coast of the British Channel. His compass stone was pulsing slowly and pointing to the southeast. The slow pulses indicated that he was very far away.

Harry flew across the water and landed in France. From France he flew through Spain, and eventually across the Mediterranean Sea into Africa.

His knowledge of African geography was poor at the best of times, and outdated.

It took him nearly a week to fly to Africa in total, including makeshift camping similar to what he did on his first Horcrux hunt.

His compass was still pulsing very slowly when he arrived in Northern Africa. It was also still pointing to the south east.

He set flying once more. The travelling was very slow, as the weather was very hot, and often very dry, especially as he went across massive deserts and salt plains. The jungles were another story all together- it was very dangerous to be near them at all. Harry was unsure of what kind of magical creatures lurked in the forests, but it was unwise to find out.

* * *

After nearly a month and several thousand miles, Harry's magical compass was starting to pulse faster. At first he put it off as a sign of dehydration, but soon it was noticeably faster and he was getting excited.

At the same time, he was slightly worried about what he would encounter on the way there. The African plains was home of the most fierce of Magical Creatures, the nundu. He did not fancy running into one of those at all. He had a higher chance of surviving Voldemort 5 times over than surviving an encounter with a hungry nundu.

Putting those thoughts out of his mind he slowly descended on his broom.

In front of him was a tribal village. His compass was pulsing very fast so he knew he was close, but not exactly how close.

He took a quick look around the village. Harry reached out with his druidic senses and sensed a few faint traces of magic, but they were not fresh. He found many bodies laying around the village. The whole village was slaughtered. He was surprised that most of the bodies were uneaten by the wildlife, but he deduced that residual dark magic scared off most of the animals.

Harry also came to the conclusion that this was caused by one man; Sighard Slytherin. The man's evilness knew no bounds. Harry was getting angry just looking at the destruction and carnage of the village.

Harry was taking one last look of the village before he took off. He made another discovery. There was a white man, dead, amongst the bodies. The man was wearing familiar clothing, the kind that most wizards wore at Hogwarts.

Maybe his original evaluation of all the destruction caused by one man was wrong. It looked like Slytherin Jr. had some friends.

Harry took out his magical compass once again. He followed it due east. He was prepared to end this hunt.

* * *

Harry flew about 5 miles until the magical compass wasn't pulsing anymore- it was just glowing. That meant he was there.

He noticed the telltale signs of fighting below; spell fire, shouting, and smoke.

Harry found him.

And his friends.

They were a half dozen of them fighting and three more laying on the ground motionless. They were attacking an elderly looking tribal man.

Harry made his move. He jumped off his broom and put it into his bag, and apparated down on the ground in one fluid motion.

His first move was to hurl the attackers with a massive gust of wind. He managed to stagger some, and knocked the rest down. They were slow to retaliate against their new foe.

Harry's second move was to scan the area for useful materials for his druid magic. There isn't much, if he was honest with himself- scarce bushes and no wildlife.

He waved his wand at some thorn bushes, enlarging them. He manifested his druidic powers in his hand and willed the bushes to accelerate the growth of the thorns.

Harry then expanded the bushes so they were growing all around the thugs.

Some of the attackers managed to think quickly and cut off the thorn bushes before they would be impaled. One man was not lucky as the thorns pierced his face.

Harry wasted no time before feeling around for more druidic magic. He noticed the air around him was electrically charged. The magic was very thick, thicker than any he had ever felt before

He attempted to harness the lightning, but it immedietly started fighting back. The conditions were too perfect and the lightning too potent.

He was now wrestling with the lightning, but he was too deep in the match to pull out now.

With a great effort, he attempted to gain one last desperate attempt at control, but the lightning just laughed at him as it dissipated out of his body. He collapsed to the ground in a brief loss of control. Some of the lightning poured out of his body and lit the very dry bushes and grass on fire.

Harry reached out in an attempt to control the fire before it consumed them all, but it was too pure, too wild, the conditions too extreme, just like the lightning.

Out of nowhere, the aged tribal man reached out his hand. Harry took it and he was pulled to his feet.

Instead of letting go right away, the tribesman held tight. Harry had a slightly panicked look as he felt the remaining lightning being sucked out of the body and into the man.

The man, however, seemed perfectly in control. He palmed the nearby electric charges and released them in a single moment of intense fury. The lightning arced across the ground, shocking all the enemies that were currently trying to free themselves from the fire.

With a swift motion, the elderly man called forth a withered staff into his hand from the air itself. He started spinning the staff madly with both hands.

Harry could sense the magic rippling off the man, but he could not comprehend it, it had a very foreign feel to it, not the traditional wizarding or druid magic, and not even Dwarven magic. They were all very similar, but had a noticeably different feel.

The man directed his spinning staff at the roaring fire. With a slight flick of the wrist, a vortex formed at the staff and the man quickly gathered up the rampaging fire into it. He controlled the flaming vortex as it ravaged all the enemies in their final moments.

Seeing that all the foes were dead, the man winked the fire out of existence. Harry simply watched on in awe. Those moves were not something that he would learn as a druid.

The man turned his focus to Harry, but he wore nothing but a benevolent smile. He made some foreign hand gestures that Harry couldn't understand.

"Sorry, English?" Harry asked. There was a zero percent chance that the man spoke English.

The man shook his head negative, which begs the question. However, the man outstretched his hands to the sky and looked straight up as a lightning bolt came down and struck him.

Harry was about to rush over to the man, but then he saw the man was unharmed. The man looked back and Harry saw his eyes were now completely electric white.

They made eye contact and Harry immedietly heard the man speaking into his head. Harry was startled at first.

'Calm, child. In our minds, languages do not matter. What brings you to these lands?'

'I hunted for these evil men. One of them has a foul book that needs to be destroyed. That one over there' Harry pointed at the man still dressed in the clothes he fled Hogwarts in. 'How did you defeat them so easily?'

'Easily my child? No, they killed my whole village… We have been fighting for 3 days nonstop… they were tired. I was tired, but you gave me the lightning energy.' The man walked over to the body Harry was pointing at. 'There is no book on them. Is there not a place for book storage in your homeland?'

'There is, but I just came from there.' Harry walked over to the body of the younger Slytherin. There was nothing on the man but the clothes he wore. Harry cursed himself for his continuing bad luck.

'Ah, but you did not go there with the intention of looking for that book.' The very old man said with incredible insight.

Harry frowned at the logic. Was the book really at Azkaban? He thought to himself. He never bothered to look there, it didn't seem logical. But since when were wizards ever logical?

'Worry not about it. Tell me, what is your name? I cannot give a reward to my rescuer without knowing his name.'

'Artemis Entreri. A reward is not necessary…' He was still thinking about the book.

'Nonsense. I am a frail old man, but I am not without skill. I saw the way you looked at my… magic. I can teach you that, but the path is not an easy one.'

'And what path is that?' Harry asked with curiosity.

'The path of the Shaman. I am the elder Shaman of these lands, I have been for centuries.'

Harry sighed. The book has eluded him once again and possibly for a long time to come. The man was vague with what he would be learning, but it couldn't be any worse or longer than his druid training, right?

Harry nodded his head. Any new magic was a good thing. 'Teach me.'

The shaman smirked. 'Follow me.'

* * *

A/N

I apologize for any major errors that appear here, I've had to rewrite the chapter twice, the first time because my computer ate it. I do about 3 or 4 proofreads before I post a story, but I cannot catch everything.

I have the next 4 or 5 chapters planned out, as of now two of them will be mostly Rowena!centric. Another of them will be shaman training; I have had it planned for a long time. Of course there is more to the Azkaban plot arc as well.

Duer = Dark/Darkness

gen = Stone/Monolith

There was a few other better names, but they didn't flow as good off the tongue. Ex- Falaln (strongest tower) Bofkrak (great fortress)


	10. Rowena's Research

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter was created by JKR, I do not own the rights to any characters, nor do I pretend to.

Rowena's POV. This chapter flows similarly to chapter 4, but I hope it is more interesting at least. Barely any dialogue, I apologize, but it is mostly Rowena figuring out some mysteries of magic. Some of it reads out like a monologue. Essential you get to see what Rowena does in her spare time. I enjoyed creating this chapter, I just hope everyone else does too. I have a feeling it is going to be a love/hate sort of thing.

* * *

Rowena was confused. It was not something that happened to her frequently, and she loathed these moments of weakness.

She was floating lost in her world. She had just enough clues, but not enough hard reasoning to come to a conclusion. She was missing a vital connection.

Rowena had just left the Azkaban library. She only spent a short time there after she announced her resignation from Hogwarts. She felt bad that the 4 founders were down to just two, but it couldn't be helped. Rowena felt as if her destiny lay outside of the walls of the castle.

Her stay at the Azkaban library was short. She has the place practically memorized because she has visited it so many times before; although she hasn't read nearly all the books. She knew exactly what books should contain information similar to that of… horcruxes. Evil soul magic… However when she got to the area of the library where similar books would be kept, she found every last one of the books missing. It was obvious too; you could see the spaces in between all the other books on the shelves where they once were. It was curious, very curious.

Since the information she was looking to read was not there, Rowena left. Not to mention the overly nice archivist who hit on her every time she was there. The library was full to the brim with testosterone; she could only take the hungry looks for so long. She has never let a guy touch her like the way they were thinking and she wasn't about to start.

Since there were no books or scrolls to be found on what she was looking for, that only meant she had to do her own research. Rowena would not give up that easily. In addition to the soul magic, there were many other things she wanted to research, but could never dedicate herself fully too.

First on her list was to identify the foreign, but benign, magic she constantly felt. It was not quite leechlike, but more like a symbiotic sort of feeling. It was hard to put her finger on it, but that just meant it was time to go into research mode. If there was one thing she hated in life the most, it was leaving a mystery unsolved.

Rowena arrived at her childhood home, only a few miles away from Diagon Alley. It was essentially her own house because her parents have long since died, and she didn't get along with the rest of the Ravenclaw clan. They did not like her scholarly approach to life.

The house was fairly plain, made from simple wood. It was what was underneath the house that interested her; a large carved stone cavern. It was designed to be a series of catacombs, but the plan never came into fruition. So the cavern was simply empty.

It wouldn't stay that way for long. Rowena brought most of her personal workshop from Hogwarts. Calling it simply a 'lab' would be underwhelming, it was many things. Rowena, after all, had many areas of interest. She was curious as if there is any actual magical distinction between fields such as charms and transfigurations, or it is really just a classification. Her interests were not just solely magic based either. Her nonmagical interests extended to see what magical effects she can replicate without the use of magics. In the past, she has had only moderate parallels with potions and alchemy, but she wanted to push the limits.

That also led to the problem of nature. Well, not really a problem in her mind, but when she took time to think about it, she was impressed by what nature could do and what everyone just took for granted. She wondered why it rained, why it snowed…

While Rowena isn't the first person to think of such things, she may be one of the very few mages to take an active interest in what some would call 'the nonmagical world.' Rowena was not blind however. If there was one force greater than magic in the universe, then it would be nature, if only on the personal scale. Magic could do nearly anything, but only if you had enough power. Nature could move mountains, but it would take hundreds, if not thousands of wizards to do the same thing.

* * *

The first experiment was figuring out what the 'symbiotic magic,' as Rowena referred to it, was actually doing to her. The first thing to do was compose a list of what she knew, and what she thought she knew about it, including theories and coincidences.

She had to think about when she first felt the magic. It was quite a long time ago she realized; around the time when Artemis Entreri first arrived at Hogwarts… In fact she now remembered their first handshake and she realized is when she started to feel the magic.

That got her thinking more about Artemis. When they were in close proximity the magical feeling was not as strong, but when they were separated it was. It was not very noticeable during the first few months, but when he disappeared into the druid grove she really started to notice it. And when he returned, and they shared a kiss… that was the first time she remembered not feeling the symbiotic magic around her at all.

It all revolved around Artemis.

Did he do it intentionally?

Does he feel the same thing?

Is he even aware of it?

Those were some questions that she did not have answers too, only Artemis did. But he was off chasing Salazar's son.

Rowena did come to one conclusion; Artemis was as much of an Enigma as he was on the day they first met, perhaps more so now. There was just so much that she didn't know about the man, even after working with him for a whole year. Just his name really, and some of his favorite foods, hobbies…

She then realized one more thing that she didn't previously connect to the symbiotic magic. Artemis came out of the Druid grove looking exactly as he did coming out- like an extremely young man. One would think that 7 years of living in a forest would change you physically, but he came out nearly exactly the same. He didn't age at all. She wondered how old he really was…

Rowena then looked down at her own hands. She was almost halfway through 30 yet she still looked like young twenties… In fact she looked exactly the same as the day she and Artemis first met. She still felt like she was her actual age, although there was no physical evidence to indicate that. She put it off as that being her mental age… although it was disconcerting.

She once again remembered back to Godric's plea for a family, and Helga showing the first signs of aging… and having to bury their childhood friend Salazar. She had too many questions and not enough answers.

Rowena did have something to go on though. She knew what the magic was doing, at least partially. Now she wanted to know how it was doing it.

She brainstormed a few ideas and a few spells to help her out. The first thing she had to do was construct a magical mirror.

She was no Archimedes, or Dwarven engineer for that matter, but Rowena was a fair hand at designing and crafting what she needed. She had to be.

Rowena made a list of materials she would need to make a mirror. There was already a forge and the needed materials to run the thing, and some raw timber laying around. Other than that, she had to collect everything else up above.

The main ingredient she had to get was the material that the reflective surface would be made out of. She decided on silver.

Normally magic could be used for this sort of thing, but when experimenting with new ideas it is imperative to cut out as many outside variables as possible. External magic is one such variable. That doesn't mean she couldn't use magic at all, just the mirror could not be made out of magic, but magic could and would be used to make it.

When Rowena had all the materials she needed, she wasted no time in setting up the mold that would be used to create the large mirror. She had a last minute brainstorm and decided to create the mirror using the natural stone that was all around her.

She picked out a random spot of stone and precisely carved a large rectangle out of it using a self crafted stone slicing spell that was a variation of a slicing hex.

Rowena then went over to the forge section of the cavern. She made sure the ventilation hole was unclogged before she started up the fire, using magic to speed up the process. She located a suitable crucible and cast strengthening charms on it before putting a few ingots of silver inside it.

After the forge was running for a little while, Rowena noticed the wood fire was burning cold. The metal in the crucible was melted, but chucks of something else could be seen floating on top. She was unsure what it was so she added more wood and pumped the bellows to create an even hotter fire.

After furiously working the bellows, she had the fire at max heat. The mysteriously floaters in the metal were still solid. Deciding they were definitely impurities and not silver, she levitated the decent size chunks of material out of the crucible.

The witch let the strange looking metal air-cool a little bit before putting it in a bucket of water.

She decided if there were impurities in the silver, she better cool the fire back down once again to try and get the rest out. She let the bellows nearly die out and allowed most of the metal to solidify.

Sighing to herself for not knowing a specific silver melting spell, or any spell with enough accuracy for the job, Rowena started the bellows up again (with her wand). She got the fire to about the same point as she had it the first time where just the silver was melting.

After waiting until all the silver was melted, she levitated the rest of the impurities out and tossed them into the cooling bucket. All she had left was nearly pure silver.

She levitated the crucible full of molten metal and poured into the rectangular frame. While the metal was still hot she used a smoothing spell to make the mirror as flat as she could while still making sure the metal spread evenly, but it was hard to get it perfect.

* * *

Rowena managed to mount the sheet of silver on a sturdy frame and it mounted the whole thing on a wall for stability. It was very reflective, and hopefully it would be good enough for her use.

Her plan was to cast as many diagnostic spells on herself and see if she could separate the symbiotic magic. The mirror was there so she could see the results on herself more clearly, and maybe bounce some spells off it. Some spells did not take well to being used on yourself, so hopefully bouncing them off a reflective surface would negate part of that.

Healing related spells in specific were less effective when used on yourself. She added that phenomena onto her list of magical classifications to study in depth.

She set herself in front of the mirror, naked. Rowena was reminded that she was aging very well- not at all in fact. Her skin was still taunt and flawless, breasts still perky, no gray hair, no visible veins, no facial wrinkles, eyes still shining with youth. Still a young maiden in terms of sexual experiences…

Rowena took out her wand and went through her chosen repertoire of revealing spells. She went through spells that revealed various known diseases, both magical and non. She also used spells that revealed parasites and other animals nearby. She found none so that meant it wasn't a symbiotic animal.

She was now trying the various magical core related diagnosis spells she knew, and on the fly derivations. None of them worked.

They worked when she showed them to Artemis many years ago, but she was not getting a result at all.

Rowena tried reflecting them off the mirror but that was not working. It was not until after 20 tries did she see why it was not working.

The mirror was melting. The mirror could not handle the magic, so it was absorbing the magic in the form of heat.

Rowena gave a rare cry of frustration as she put her clothes back on. She levitated the ruined melted mirror and got to work on brainstorming a better mirror that could actually handle spells.

* * *

After several weeks of making failed mirrors, ranging from gold, bronze, copper, iron, steel, and everything in between, she finally remembered back to the very bright unmelting metal she found in her first batch of silver. During that time though, Rowena got very proficient at cataloging the specific melting point of the various metals and alloys, in respect to the flame intensity and the ratio of air to wood in her forge. She discovered that silver melted at a little less than half the maximum heat the forge could generate.

However, the strange metal she found took a lot more coaxing to melt than what her forge had to offer with wood. The metal itself was very lightweight for its size, had a similar sheen to silver, but was noticeably lighter in color.

No other normal combustible materials she could think of would melt the metal. That left what she was best at- magic. Normal flame spells could not get hot enough, 'incendio', 'flagrante' and the like, not even with maximum amplifying alterations.

That left Rowena to having to create a new and very hot fire spell and a method to put it out, be it a massive amount of water, removing all the oxygen, or a direct counterspell.

* * *

Rowena had her spell. And a nearly fail proof way to get rid of it, along with a few backup methods should it somehow fail.

She had the crucible enchanted with many layers of indestructibility. The mirror mold was also set up with the same precautions. It would not do to have everything melt on her.

"Aestuo coniecto abyssus plasmestas!" Rowena incanted. The want movements were critical, and very vicious looking; almost as if her wand was a sword and she was dueling an invisible foe.

A large puddle of blue and red flames appeared underneath the crucible. The flames were hellish looking, glimpses of imps and hellhounds could be seeing fleeting about, trying to break free of the fire to wreck havoc on the land.

It took sheer force of will the keep the fire from spreading out of control, and to prevent the monsters of dreams from manifesting into reality.

Slowly though, the metal in the crucible melted. It was very slow in melting, taking nearly a whole hour of sitting under the flames.

A whole hour of controlling her hellish firestorm spell, a battle that many people in the future would fail at.

A whole hour that the very hot fire took its toll on everything in the room.

Rowena had a large amount of ventilation for the room, but she could still feel the air being sucked out and the smoke devouring everything. She had prepared for that and cast a bubblehead charm on herself, and it was enough, but barely.

However, an event was taking place, while although not entirely unpredicted, she did not think it was actually possible. The fire was so hot, it was actually destroying magic. One by one the charms on the crucible were failing, the magic being used as more fuel for the fire. She had about 20 spells on it though, so she was not in immediate danger of losing the metal.

The metal. She knew what it was, after researching it of course. It was mithril, a substance that the Dwarves are well known for using in abundance. That was the catch. The Dwarves had their own magic for working it, magic that Rowena could not use because she was a human. They did not have to engage in a battle of wills against a spell of their own creation like she had to. She also did not have the luxury of being able to walk down into the Dwarven Kingdom like Artemis managed.

Seeing that the metal was all liquefied, she hastily cast the counterspell to her firestorm. It wasn't so much as a direct counter spell like a dispel, but it was guaranteed to get rid of the fire every time. She tried very hard to make a dispel for it, but did not had any success. She struggled with the magical categorizing system once again and was determined that there was an internal magical difference between a curse and a charm, something that made them fundamentally work differently. But that was for another day.

"Voragam sepulchrum foramen!" Rowena cast the spell after about 20 seconds of intense wand movements.

A hole could be seen forming underneath the fire. It slowly got larger, and as it got larger you could see the smoke from the fire being sucking into the hole. Slowly the fire was being sucked out existence, along with all the fiery creatures that were struggling to break free of their otherworldly bonds.

Rowena stabilized the magical hole then got to work pouring the molten mithril into her mold. The mold held, thankfully, so she started casting her smoothing and spreading charms to make sure the mirror was as flat as possible. The mithril was a lot more resistant to her spells and it was quite difficult to get the mirror as perfect as she wanted. When all was said and done, she was very tired, but thankful that it worked. Now all she had to do was continue with the actual experiments.

* * *

After the mirror was ready and polished, Rowena mounted it on the wall like before, and stripped naked once again. She took a test shot at the mirror, and to her glee, the spell ricocheted off without damaging the mithril mirror.

She began her regiment of diagnostic revealing spells and nothing was out of the ordinary until she got to the magical core related ones, and this time they worked when they reflected off the mirror.

The first one she used was the energy level revealing one, to determine if someone is suffering from magical exhaustion. Her aura was glowing a very light blue, a lot lighter than the last time she had the spell performed on her. She was surprised, that meant her magic was still getting stronger.

Rowena was more surprised however, when she noticed a faint golden glow also. The golden ring was on the outside of the aura, and not the inside. It was not enough proof that it was not her own magic that was emitting the golden aura, so she had to think of another way to tell the difference.

She tried another spell, one that revealed ambient magic. The air showed pink dust where all magic has been. Her skin was coated with the pink dust, as was the air around her, and the mirror. The pink dust was specific to her magical signature. Everyone else nearby should turn up in a different color.

Rowena was unsure what it meant, and was not ready to come to a conclusion about that test.

She made a slight on-the-go modification to the aura spell, combining it with her own magical signature from the last spell. The only aura that appeared was now the faint golden glow, and it was not being emitted from her own magical core.

She huffed in annoyance.

Artemis. His was the only core that she knew of that had a golden color. Rowena deduced in the past that it was because it was tied directly to the earth, but as far as she could tell the golden aura surrounding her was tied to the man and not the earth. Most curious.

She was looking at the results in the mirror, when she noticed a slight defect causing an odd phenomenon. The mirror had a slight bubble concavity in a few spots. When she got close enough to one of the defects with the aura spell on, she saw that the aura was emitting many colors and not just the gold onto the ground. She saw reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues, indigos and violets blended on the ground. The reds took up about 80% of the color while all the others were just little slices. She was unsure what it meant, but had an idea on how to examine it in depth.

Rowena went over to her workbench, still naked, and got to work on her idea. She conjured a large chunk a large chunk of glass. She made one side completely flat, and made the other side angled. She crafted a revolutionary triangular glass prism. The conjuration was small enough that it should never disappear, unlike if she tried conjuring a large mirror. Her results from testing would remain unbiased as long she used the same piece of glass.

She cast the diagnostic spell once again, and brought the prism to the edge of the aura. Sure enough, the golden aura was split up into an unequal amount of colors.

Rowena got out her journal and wrote the results down with haste. She has never read about something like this, ever. She inadvertently made a ground breaking discovery in the field of theoretical magics and wanted to record everything. She measured the spacing in the colors, the distance she stood from the prism, and the distance from the prism to the ground.

The next step was to repeat the prism steps on other magical auras. Rowena wanted to test it right away on actual spells, but she chucked that idea out the window. A spell would destroy the prism instead of passing through the glass. She would need some sort of magical glass for that to work, similar to how she had to use the magical metal mithril instead of silver. However, there was no such thing as far as she knew. Rowena could develop her own, but she was on the verge of a breakthrough and did not want to waste time at the moment.

Rowena reversed the diagnosis spell to reveal only her aura, and not the foreign one. When the aura passed through the prism, the same exact color spread was emitted on the floor, down to the smallest degree. It was shocking, but it was possible that all auras would emit the same colors… so she had to get other auras to test on.

She remained in thought for only a few seconds. Rowena could get another human to test the aura spell on, but that would take too much explaining, and school was in session; she didn't want to disturb them or get sidetracked from her research.

The excited witch raced up to the main floor of her abode and grabbed some enchanted items; an ever sharp-dagger, a self-stirring ladle, and permanently warm boots. She also grabbed a mundane rock.

Down in the lab once more, Rowena took the first item and cast the aura revealing spell on it. The dagger's aura was dark green, and the colors the prism emitted were a yellowish green. She took careful measurements of the color distribution. This confirmed that not all auras would give off the same light. She wrote down her results and also made mention that the spell on the dagger was an enchantment, not a charm, for future testing.

The self stirring ladle also gave off a green aura, the refracted colors were also a yellowish green, but the rest of the smaller colors were on the lighter side. The self-stirring ladle was also an enchantment.

The shoes gave off a blue glow, and the refracted colors were mainly of a pure yellow nature. Rowena marked down that the shoes were charmed, not enchanted.

The stone was for her to cast various spells on and record the results. She had lofty plans of recording every spell she could think of. First though, she did have to test another person's aura for complete results.

Rowena took out a large blank text, and wrote _De re Magicka_on the front. She gave herself a well deserved smile.

As soon as she smiled however, she had a sudden feeling of impending doom. She also had a sudden feeling of emptiness.

It took her a few minutes to place the reason for it. The symbiotic magic, Artemis's magic, it was no longer there.

Rowena performed the diagnosis spell and could not get any sign of the golden aura she saw so many times recently. She was at a loss, there was no logical explanation.

The only reasoning she could think of was that Artemis was dead, or maybe he was only out of range, or being suppressed, no matter the odds of any of that happening.

She cast the diagnostic spell on herself once more on herself, and put her aura through the prism. The colors were unchanged. She sighed in defeat and readied herself to go to Hogwarts to look for answers.

* * *

Rowena took the floo over to Hogwarts, it was the quickest way to arrive there, and the quickest way to travel anywhere in the wizarding world, but it has not really caught on with the general population yet and was very rare for a random town to have a connection. Apparation was not something she knew, and she had only witnessed it a few times in her life. Artemis did it regularly, and some of the elder mages of the council could do it.

It was thought that you needed an immense amount of magical power to pull it off, something she didn't have when she was young. But if the color change in her aura was anything to go by, she might be able to do it nowadays. She would have to research it.

The castle was much the same as she left months ago. She was greeted immedietly by Godric, who was lounging at the table by himself.

"Rowena!" he yelled jumping up. "It is so good to see you again."

"Hello to you too Godric. Been awhile since I have been here." Rowena embraced Godric in a brotherly hug.

"So what is the occasion?" Godric asked with a smile on his face.

"Oh, I am actually looking for Artemis…" She said uncertainly.

A contemplative look appeared on Godric's face. "It has been a few months… In fact, the last time he was here he was looking for you."

"Really?" Rowena looked astonished.

"I told him you went to Azkaban to research."

"I only stayed there for a few days; the books I was looking for were not there."

"Strange." Godric replied. "Artemis did tell me though that he was searching for Sighard Slytherin. He took some of his possessions for potential use in a spell. All signs pointed to Sighard being out of the country, so I guess that Artemis is also out of the country."

"Ah." 'Maybe there is a range problem…' Rowena said to herself. "Can you help me with an experiment of mine then?"

"Sure, as long as you stay here for dinner." Godric replied without missing a beat.

Rowena gave off a laugh. "Ok. The experiment is simple. I just need to see the results of a diagnosis spell on you under a piece of glass. I have been getting some interesting results."

"Ok."

Rowena set up the prism and cast the spell on Godric. His aura was a sky blue, with the prism showing a noticeably larger amount of yellowish orange than the other colors. This was a different result compared to the reds she got from her aura.

She was giddy with excitement as she wrote down the results in her book.

"I take it the experiment was a success."

"Yes. It shows that our auras give off different light."

"How is that significant?"

"Artemis' aura and mine both gave off the same exact color spread through this glass, although we have very different aura colors."

"What does that mean?"

"I am not entirely sure." She told him. "I think the closer the colors are, the more similar the magic is to each other. I need to see Artemis and perform some spells on him to know for sure. In the mean time though, can I test some of the students? I have been recording the auras of various spells and I would like as many entries as possibly."

She did not know what the colors represented, or what to even call them, but evidence was showing that she and Artemis had the same colors, and she had his extended youth. They had to be related, but the exact mechanics were as of yet unknown.

"Only with their permission." Godric replied to her question. "You can ask around at dinner. In the mean time though, let us reminisce about times past... "

* * *

Rowena was working furiously on her research once again. She had many pages filled with recordings of the different magic spectrums of various charms, enchantments, and auras.

She sorted every spell that had the same amount of one color into a category, such as charms. Every single charm had the same exact amount of mid-range yellow. Every single enchantment had the same amount of yellowish green. It was as startling discovery. It was the beginning of hew new magical re-cataloging idea; the idea that all charms share a common magical root. Enchantments had a piece of yellow in them, indicating that all enchantments are related to charms, which made sense and also indicated that charms were a major branch of fundamental magic, and that enchantments were a derivative of it. It was in the smaller colors that similar spells can be separately identified from their brethren.

Rowena noted that the actual colors of the auras had no bearing on the refracted magical spectrum, as least as far as she could tell. Or they at least had no effect on the type of spell it was.

She was concerned at first on how a person's prism refracted aura colors were related to an object's refracted colors. That was until she had a brainstorm while sleeping. Godric's prime color combination was yellowish orange. She was unsure what pure orange translated too, but yellow was charms.

Rowena had a strong hunch that yellowish orange would indicate a link with transfiguration, as that is what Godric was best at. That could, in turn, indicate that orange translated into conjuration. It made sense and meant that transfiguration was a combination of conjuration and charms- a link that no one has ever made before. Also, no one has ever discovered a link that indicated that a person actually had a link with a type of magic over another. There was no way to tell if you are born like that, or if it develops over time. For now at least…

Seeing an easy way to tell if orange was conjuration, Rowena cast the diagnostic spell right at the prism. Sure enough, the color she saw refracting through it was orange. She smiled and wrote down the success in her book.

She was unsure what her own red color would mean though. She had a primitive list of curses, jinxes, hexes, and potions she wanted to discover the major colors of. She had a feeling that some of the more obscure areas of magic were just derivations of standard spells.

The problem Rowena would now face was how to get the colors off an active spell, and not an imbued spell. She would need to stop a spell in midair… She would need to sleep on the idea.

* * *

The idea Rowena came up with was genius. She needed to freeze a spell in midair. Literally.

One of the observations Rowena made when she was pouring metal for her mirror, the hotter a liquid was, the faster it flowed. The mithril flowed very sluggishly at first, but after it was heated for a longer period of time it flowed faster.

If she could cool down an area enough, it should be possible to slow a spell down a little bit. Couple that with multilayered stasis spells, she might just be able to pull it off.

She needed to create a device in which to enchant with the freezing and stasis bubble spells. The problem Rowena would face was similar to the mithril problem, where she couldn't get enough heat. There was no spell in existence that could freeze a target cold enough. She was unsure if there was a limit of how cold something could actually get. She estimated that her firestorm spell was about 4 times hotter than the standard fire spell, so it stood the reason she could create a cold spell that is 4 times colder than the standard cold spell.

Crafting the device to shoot spells through was the easiest part- she did it out of conjured crystal. Crystal should be able to survive cold temperatures without shattering and could hold her enchantments. It was a simple affair, just a large tube on a stand.

Creating the spell needed though- that could take an extended period of time.

* * *

It was quite awhile before Rowena had an adequate spell made. There was not a single spell that could reach the limits of what she felt nature would allow.

Rowena did manage to create a _cumulative_ spell though. Multiple instances of the same spell would accumulate with each other creating an additive effect.

Getting a spell that was additive though was a huge pain. Nearly every other spell in existence is multiplicative and suffers from diminishing returns. That is to say, every spell after the first creates a weaker effect if not at full power. (1X1 = 1, but .9X.9 =.81, .8x.8=.64) Casting the additive spell took a huge amount of power, and she just barely had enough.

Her alternate idea was to create an amplifying prism stone and refract spells off a rig similar to Archimedes's death ray. She did not have the patience or the wherewithal to go about with that plan though, but it never hurt to have backup plans, no matter how unrealistic.

The time was finally right, and Rowena started casting every spell she thought she would need on the crystal tube. First she started with a spell pliability enchantment- it would make spells hold better and be more susceptible. The next step was to cast the layer of stasis bubbles.

The idea would be to cast the spells into the stasis bubbles, hope the extreme cold would stay inside, and then cast more stasis spells once the cold spells were set. And then add more stasis spells after the spell was frozen in place.

Cast cast her spell. "Viscus gelus reprobum!"

The room got noticeably colder, even through the stasis bubble. She had to conjure some warm clothing for herself, lest she freeze to death.

Rowena kept casting it until the whole room was layered in a coat of frost. Her hands were shaking as she cast the sealing charm and preservation enchantments on the cylinder.

Not wanting to waste any time, she cast her first spell through the cylinder, the leg-locking jinx. She watched in fascination as the spell left her wand at normal speed, but went in slow motion through one side of the cylinder and out the other before speeding up again.

Still, the spell was moving too quick for her to get a reading. Getting a sudden idea, she cast the same jinx. However, when it was going through the tube, she hit the jinx directly with her freezing spell. She noted with satisfaction that the spell itself froze in place, but still hovered in midair. The stasis spell did their job of keeping the spell from crashing to the ground like she theorized it would. After all, if an object had no forward motion, that meant it must have downward motion if no magic is acting upon it. It was obvious really, if a levitation spell made something float, when you cancelled the spell, the object fell. It was not magic making the object fall, so that meant it must be nature. Rowena, however, was too involved with her magical research to take too much of an interest in natural theory, for now at least.

With the spell frozen in midair, Rowena cast the very familiar diagnostic spell on the frozen jinx. She was happy to note that she was only picking up the jinx, and not the frost spell. That meant the frost spell dissipated but left the cold effect behind, just like how a fireball leaves a trail of normal fire behind.

Rowena quickly levitated the prism to an adequate angle and was happy to record the results of the aura refracting. Greenish blue. That meant jinxes were a combination of two other fundamental spell types.

Working in fervor, she got right onto the next spell.

"Vegrandis poena" Rowena cast the stinging hex, and quickly froze it with "Viscus gelus reprobum!"

Performing the diagnostic spells, she determined that hexes are a base form of magic, their color pure blue. That meant jinxes were at least partially derived from hexes.

That naturally meant she had to find the other half, the green half. She tried 'rictumspempa,' but that turned out to be a charm.

Rowena was not one to be dissuaded for long though, the next spell, a very basic tongue-tying spell, resulted in the green color. After a few more spells, she deduced that greens were curses, and that jinxes are a mix of a curse and a hex.

Giddy with her success, she prepared herself for a long night of testing.

* * *

After many nights of recording the results of many spells, mostly benign, and quite a few nasty ones, she was preparing for the heavy duty stuff.

Her observational chart was as follows; Orange- conjuration. Yellowish orange- transfiguration. Yellow- charms. Yellowish green- enchantment. Green- curses. Greenish blue- jinxes. Blue- hexes. Alchemy creations gave out a rainbow of colors, as did potions. Many categories of spells, such as 'wards', were actually just standard charms or enchantments.

Rowena could not find a single spell that gave off red or purple. She thought that something like rituals might be purple, but there was no way to test it with her current setup. It would be very hard to test internal magic also, such as apparation. Maybe red stood for general magic? Since she was the one recording the research she could apply whatever name she wanted to red…

A most peculiar thing though, some spells gave off colors that were not in the normal rainbow. Nearly every healing spell had a light gray mixed in.

Her firestorm spell on the other hand, had a dark grey mixed in with the telltale green of a curse. Rowena thought that dark grey indicated a sort of magical resistance to being dispelled or healed, and generally nasty. She put light gray off on the other side of the coin; spells that were usually beneficial to a person.

The one thing that escaped logic though, was why she could not control what type of spell she made. There was nothing in her calculations that indicated that her firestorm spell would be a curse- a curse that stemmed from hell itself, if the hellhounds that threatened to burst into existence were anything to go by. In the past a mage would have to play guess and check with a spell until they got it into the form they want. Maybe with her new data she could come up with a new method of inventing spells?

Rowena had hundreds of spells catalogued in her book. The next few spells she wanted to record were nasty ones if used on another person.

"Crucio!" Rowena yelled with fury. The red and black bolt of pain froze in her device like planned. The prism refracted the roots of the spell, an equal amount of green and dark gray.

A sinister spell indeed.

Rowena had one more spell she wanted to test, but she had to be very, very careful. She had an idea that the spell might somehow be related to the mysterious idea of the Horcrux, and the soul, but it was just an idea in her head. It is possible that if she could unravel the secrets of the spell, all her answers could be answered.

Rowena had to take some extra precautions- the spell was not one you could walk away from if something went wrong. She set up a large external stasis field that was anchored to a large stone arch.

After prepping up the crystal frost tube, she took very careful aim with her wand down the middle of it.

"Avada Kedavra!" Rowena spat out in disgust.

The green arc of death soared into the crystal tube, and she quickly froze it with time-honed skill. She very quickly went about the prism test.

What she saw was unexpected. There was green, which she expected, and the dark gray. However, there was a large amount of black also.

The black aura was most mysterious and odd; it seemed to be almost alive. It looked like the black light was almost reaching out like tendrils into the air. The tendrils were reaching out searching for something, and slowly getting longer by the second.

Rowena had more important things to worry about at the moment though. The frozen killing curse was starting to glow brightly. And the glow turned into a slow pulse, which turned into a slightly quicker pulse.

Deciding that this was a bad thing, a very bad thing, she cast her backup spell. Similar to the firestorm spell, and the Cruciatus, the killing curse did not have a counterspell that she could find or create. There were spells to deal with the effects of the first two curses, but the only effect of the killing curse was death. And death is irreversible.

Rowena's backup spell was "Voragam sepulchrum foramen!" The hole had a tendency to suck anything in near proximity out of existence.

The hole was struggling to suck up the killing curse though.

Seeing that something bad was about to happen, she started casting as many spells as she could at her stasis arch. Spells such as strengthening spells, unyielding spell's, unbreakable charms and absorption spells…

It was a good thing too.

The vacuum hole eventually absorbed the killing curse, and when it did it exploded with flash of blinding green light. The bright green light seemed to linger about the room longer than what was natural.

In front of her, the vacuum hole was now taking up the entire inside of the arch. The surface of the hole was in a constant state of rippling and shifting.

Her crystal tube was the first thing to go. It was right in the middle of the arch, and it got sucked through and left no trace of ever being there in the first place.

Rowena cast sticking spells on her feet so she would not get sucked in herself. Not sure exactly what to do, Rowena did what she does best; observe and record.

The first thing she notice was that the hole spell had mutated when it absorbed the killing curse. The hole in the arch no longer appeared to be the same spell, and after a few minutes the intensity died down.

Rowena could no longer see through the arch though; there was _something_ that was making the doorway opaque. She was unsure of what that _something_ was, but she did not want to find out herself. Rowena cast her diagnosis sell on the arch, and got nothing but a black aura, with tendrils reaching straight through the hole.

The worst part was now happening though. She was hearing voices in her head. Voices she had not heard in nearly 30 years. Voices from her childhood, voices of people long dead.

Rowena then realized with shock that the voices were not directly in her head, but coming from the arch itself.

"My word! What have I created…" She whispered to herself as she saw murky forms moving about the inside of the arch.

They were calling out to her.

She had to resist.

Nothing ever came back from her hole spell, there was nothing to show that anything could return from this hole either.

"…Abomination." Rowena stated with disgust. "I have breached the laws of mortal magic. What magic can allow us to see the souls of those who have long since died? Nay, this is unnatural. Unhealthy. No good can come from this! I will seal up this portal to the realm of the dead, hopefully to never see the light of day again!"

With that speech which only herself and those who exist beyond heard, she set about cutting large slabs of stone from the cavern walls. Rowena fused them to both sides of the arch and cast every helpful spell she could thing of onto it. She set the last spell to be a locking charm that only her magical signature could unlock.

Still not satisfied, Rowena set about to packing up the entire house. When her entire collection of research was all shrunk and in her pocket, she set about to collapsing the cavern with the house right on top.

A dozen blasting hexes later, her abode was no more. Satisfied that no one would ever find the arch in many years, Rowena thought about what to do now. She had no house, but there was always Hogwarts.

As she was standing on top of all the rubble, Rowena suddenly clenched her heart.

"Oh my!" Rowena exclaimed. The symbiotic magic that she had no felt in a long time was suddenly back.

And it was overwhelming her. She felt as if a ton of brick was being forced on her chest.

That meant one thing.

"Artemis."

Rowena now had her destination. Artemis was alive, and she was going to find him if it meant travelling across the world.

She cast the diagnostic spell on herself, and was immedietly happy to see the golden aura next to her own. There was a visible tendril extending off of it, into the distance. She would follow it. Forget Hogwarts, Rowena felt like she was going to explode if something didn't happen soon.

* * *

Author Notes.

A timeframe was purposefully left out, but this all occurred over a long period of time. You will have to wait to find out exactly how long.

I know that this chapter drones on a lot, but it is very important. I've actually cut back on the chapter. I had larger plans for including other areas of Rowena research, such as natural vs magical comparisons, the magic that nature can replicate and such, and other pre-Newtonian ideas. Do not think for a second she is done though. The ideas that have shown up in this chapter will be expanded on in future chapters.

I did note one writing flaw of mine. I used 'Rowena' and 'She' quite a lot. There are not enough descriptive nouns in the world to keep an 8k word monologue interesting. This is definitely one chapter I am going to want to rework sometime in the future. I did spend upwards of nearly 20 hours on this chapter though. About 5 to write it, and 15 in editing to get it into this barely readable form. I have 4 pages of handwritten notes on the chapter too, and it was really difficult to get it to where it is now. A rework is definitely in order, but I want to keep the story moving. Sometimes originality comes at a price.

---------Please, if you find any really bad grammar or spelling mistakes, or inconsistencies, please send me a pm.

I also could of thrown an anecdote in the brief GG/RR scene, but I honestly couldn't come up with a good one, and I thought long and hard on it too. Sorry

-De re Magicka is a reference to the De re Metallica that would me written in the 1500's

-Rowena created the fiendfyre spell here if you couldn't tell. She got rid of it with a black hole. Rowena named it the firestorm spell. I didn't create a name for the black hole or extreme cold.

-Also created the arch that is in the Department of mysteries in canon.

-the prism was not refracting light, it was refracting magic, so do not write me reviews that I do not know the visible light spectrum. Rowena essentially discovered magical frequencies…. Although I suppose it is also very similar to a spectrograph.

-Reviews. I appreciate reviews, good or bad. However, reviews that do nothing but state historical inaccuracies in my story are not appreciative and add nothing. This is an AU story, meaning alternate reality. This definitely did not happen in the real world, and this is definitely not a traditional founders story. I don't care at all that JKR said that floo powder was invented by some random dude in the 1200's

-I don't pretend to be an expert on any of the stuff in this chapter, I am more than likely wrong on many accounts. My metal forging experience is limited to a mixed machining/forging course in college. We used a modern setup to forge a bunch of flywheels for miniature engines.

-The amount of mirror creating done adds up to nil. I am pretty sure they don't make them with a forge like I showed in the chapter, I think they use electroplating or something similar. At least in modern times. Do not post a review on how I got it wrong…it doesn't matter

-I've taken a few classes in physics, but regardless I am far from a physics expert. I know heating an object makes the atoms move faster, and cooling an object makes them flow slower. Creating an absolute zero environment stops all subatomic movement altogether, in theory. The idea of freezing a spell in midair with my idea is shaky at best, and I am aware of it.

The magical spectrum (I apologize if I got any mixed up in the story, it was very confusing to get them all lined up so it would make a little sense)

Conjuration- orange

Transfiguration- yellowish orange

Charms- yellow

Enchanting- yellowish green

Curses- green

Jinxes- greenish blue

Hex- blue

Alchemy - mix

The first 7 all connect to each other, with conjuring, charms, curses, and hexes being fundamentals, while transfiguration, enchanting, and jinxes are blends of the others. Alchemy is a mix of the others, while potions is a subcategory of alchemy. Warding is a subcategory of charms. Rituals, blood magic, and everything else you can use your imagination for. Wandless magic doesn't have a color of its own- the end results are the same as their wanded counterpart and thus the same color. Internal magic such as apparation, animagi… well you will have to wait and see if they have a color. I actually haven't decided and it is really not that important. The tendril idea that you saw in the end of the chapter is something that is going to be expanded on, basically it is a way to trace magic back to its source. The light gray/dark grey is essential a version of light/dark magic, regardless of what you use the spells for. Every story I read has different definitions of light and dark magic. Even in my own stories I used different ideas.

This system is far from perfect, it is really just a means to an end though, and sets up another plot later down the line.

Pretty much everything that happened in this chapter is means to an end. Keep in mind, this story is just beginning. I plan on bringing this story all the way through to modern Hogwarts era. Essentially, these first dozen chapters are setting the background of everything else that will happen in the story. The little thing with Slytherin is just a very small fraction of the story.

The next chapter is Harry's training with the shaman. This is the second set of training out of the three I have planned. The most I will say about the third training is that Harry will learn some of his namesakes (Artemis Entreri) skills. I don't think we will see Rowena until the chapter after next, sorry!


	11. Trials and Tribulations

Sorry for the long delay in between chapters. I have not lost interest in this story, but I have gotten side tracked with various things.

I had to split up the chapter so this is the first part of Harry's 'training'. I experimented a little with first person POV.

-post edit- I just fixed a small formatting error; my scene breaks keep disappearing on me. It doesn't upload my word documents correctly so I have to put them in manually I think.

As always, Harry Potter is property of JKR and i make no money off this.

* * *

Harry was following the elder Shaman with a great amount of reservation. Their introduction was very brief, and he did not even know the man's name. He did not know where they were going. He did not know what he was going to learn besides 'Shamanism'- whatever that was. He did not know how long it was going to take.

He could not even communicate with the man because of the language barrier. The shaman seemed to be able to perform some sort of telepathy with eye contact that allowed them to communicate in their minds… but it was very unnerving. Harry was unsure if the man was reading his thoughts with legillimancy, but he would like to think he would notice with his, admittedly poor, occlumency skills.

Harry was already getting anxious after a week of following the elder shaman. They have been walking through stretches of savannah grasslands. There are some rivers and watering holes, but not that many.

The amount of wildlife they saw astonished Harry. Zebra, antelope, elephants, even lions. It saddened Harry to know that many of these creatures would most likely become extinct from overhunting many centuries down the road, but he took solace in the fact that he had the privilege to see such magnificent creatures in their natural environment without fear of overhunting by foreigners.

He was concerned about lions and other predators taking an interest in him, so he exerted his druidic powers as much as he could to calm the beasts around him. He was not the largest creature in this part of the world and all the animals had no clue how truly dangerous a wizard could be. Harry hoped that his aura would allow him to travel in relative peace and tranquility.

His aura, however, didn't seemed to be having as much effect as the shamans… presence. The man wasn't exerting anything tangible; it was more of just a subconscious feeling that reached out to you to tell you who the boss was. Harry's aura felt like he carried a piece of the forest with him at all times, but that forest was still foreign in this land.

They stopped for the day and the shaman went about preparing the meal for the day. It consisted of whatever you could gather from the bush next to you. He watched closely as the man picked stuff off a tree

Harry did not know much about surviving in the African wilds, and he defiantly did not know what was safe to eat in these parts. In Britain he could survive in the wild for the rest of his life, but his local knowledge and druidism seemed very inadequate for the vastness of Africa. His druidism could probably help him cure himself of poison if it was slow acting, but to actually determine if a plant was edible was only something that could be done with actual knowledge. That's why classes like Herbalism exist after all.

His druidism allowed him to be able to interact with animals, but most of the large mammals of the African wilds did not exist in Britain. He is able to influence animals like squirrels and birds, but something like a lion would be a tough challenge. He had no experience with the large beasts of this continent. He was only an Adept after all, fresh of the initiate path. The goal of an Adept is to travel the world and gain firsthand knowledge, but Harry couldn't help but wonder if he jumped in the deep end of the pool without knowing how to swim.

Harry looked down at the fruit that the shaman handed to him. He was honestly sick of the things after only a week of eating them. They were very bitter. He made eye contact with the shaman so they could talk.

'Can we not eat meat?' Harry asked.

The shaman appeared surprised by the request. 'I was under the impression that druids would not eat an animal. I apologize if I am wrong.'

'Killing animals for food us the natural process of the world. We are allowed to eat meat as long as we do our best to use everything off the animal.'

'I see. I hold similar beliefs. Very well, we shall eat properly then.' The shaman click his fingers and a small animal flew out of the bushes and into his hand. He made eye contact with it and Harry could tell it simply died, just like that. 'Get some water from the river and start boiling it on a fire. Use your magic to hide the smoke and smell. I with gather some ingredients for a stew.'

Without waiting for Harry to acknowledge him, the old man shuffled off into the tall grasses. Not seeing anything wrong with the plan, Harry conjured a bucket and went down to the river.

Luckily Harry didn't run into any large animals on the way to or back from the river. He was curious as to why he couldn't just use an aguamenti charm though.

Back at the makeshift camp, the shaman was hard at work preparing the ingredients. Apparently there was more in the wilds here than just fruit off a tree. The man held what looked like wild peppers and onions. He already had a small gathering of chopped up herbs on a smooth stone.

Harry quickly cleared away some brush and conjured a fire. He rigged up a stand to support the pot he conjured for the stew. The shaman quickly poured in the various chopped up ingredients in, including the chopped rabbit he just got finished preparing. He could see some bones neatly piled off to one side along with the fire.

They sat in silence on their makeshift seats. Thankfully, they both had magic at our disposable so setting up makeshift camps was not terrible difficult.

The stew though, that was excellent, better than anything that Harry has eaten in recent memory, and he told the shaman as much.

'This stew is amazing. It is almost as if there is something magical about it. '

The shaman was blowing on his bowl to cool the stew, but there was a noticeable Dumbledoresque twinkle in his eyes. 'I have made a few stews in my time.' He said simply.

'If I may ask though, why could I not just conjure water?'

He seemed to have expected this question and answered immedietly. 'Your water spell does not conjure water as you think it does, but rather it takes water from the air and environment and puts it at your disposal. If you look around you, you will see much of the grass and plants are wilting and drying up because it has not rained here in several weeks, there is no extra water for you to take with your spell. You would most likely kill off the plants if you tried. True conjured water would not have the mineral properties of the water from stream and would not make the food taste as good.'

Harry absorbed the information for a few seconds before nodded his head. It is nice to learn a little something every day. Still, conjured water did not have trace hints of animal waste and disease, but such is the natural way of life.

After sitting around in silence watching the magical fire for a little bit they extinguished it to sleep. The shaman waved his hand and Harry felt some magic apply itself to the land. Harry recognized them as the same spells from the last few nights and figured them to be protective magic of some sort.

The shaman tossed him a rolled up hide to use as a ground cloth. Harry took it and spread it out. He transfigured a soft pad and a blanket for himself. He could have transfigured an elaborate tent or even a building, but that would take away from the experience.

Harry settled for nothing overhead so he could watch the night sky. Animal and insect repelling charms were always nice to have.

* * *

I noticed that the environment was slowly giving changing from grasslands into light jungle. Plants are greener, more trees, and less roaming large mammals.

But far more dangerous.

Magic helps deter the disease ridden insects, and that is always a blessing. I don't know much about Malaria or how wide spread it was at the beginning of the millennium, but I could do without finding out the hard way.

And now we have to watch out overhead for predators. The shaman has been doing a good job keeping all the curious animals away, but they have all been mundane animals. It is much easier for me to communicate with magical animals as opposed to mundane ones, but that is because they are far more intelligent. That also means they are far more likely to not be effected by the shamans presence and more likely to eat us.

We have been walking for about three weeks by this time. The novelty of animals I have only ever seen in zoo has worn off.

It's thoughts like those that were bound to get us in trouble. I heard a snapping twig from behind us. I turned around real quick, and surprising I saw the hide-covered shaman turn around also. That was not very like him, so I knew something was off already. He never lost his cool.

There was a cat watching us.

At first I thought it was a leopard or jaguar, as we have seen a few of the predator cats around, or maybe even a tiger. Not that I am an expert, but I'm sure Hermione could have told me that two of the three are not found in Africa.

This thing was large though.

Very large.

On all fours it was at least as tall as me.

I looked at the shaman to see what to do, but he was analyzing the situation. He yelled at the beast in some foreign language, and it almost seemed like the beast understood what he said and it growled in response. I saw a faint green mist pour out of its mouth.

'What is it?'

'It is the beast who stalks the night and eats whole villages…'

I cursed on the ground. 'I assume it is a magical beast?'

'You are right.'

'It is beyond my capabilities to deter…' I said, stating the obvious.

'As it is mine, it is ignoring my repellent completely… we are going to have to fight it.'

'What exactly is it? I've never seen a cat so large…'

'It is called Nundu. There is no greater land predator in the world. I have seen one kill a basilisk with nothing but its claws.'

That got my attention. 'What else can it to?'

'Its breath… it can spit out noxious poison clouds that can kill very quickly. Its hide is very resistant also, not to mention it is very fast and very big. Faster than a cheetah and as heavy as a water buffalo.'

Shit.

'So what do we do?'

'It is kill of be killed, it has shown that its intentions are such. It sees us as a meal and it is hungry.'

'If my magic cannot pierce its hide, what should I do?'

'Entangle it, use roots, sand, whatever… we have to immobilize it. And then we drown it.'

Right. Easier said than done of course. I watched the nundu give a deep growl and saw the faintest hint of green mist escape from its mouth again. I slowly shook my head to clear the cobwebs.

I carefully extended my druid senses. I felt many animals nearby, but this… nundu, is clearly king of this area. It even radiated a king predator aura of its own, and my own aura was exuding that of prey. The shaman's presence was that of very minor prey, but more of a nuisance or simply indifference. I realized then that we were no longer the top of the food chain, and that it was looking to make me into its next meal.

Almost as if it was sensing our intentions, the nundu tensed up. It was over 100 feet away, but if what the shaman says it true that is only a couple seconds run for it.

I pulled out the elder wand with my right hand, and brought my left hand out directly in front of me fingers outstretched like claws. I formed a small contingency spell with my wand, and then I released them all at once.

My contingency spell burst forth with entangling roots, entangling vines and muddy ground all at the same time. The way wizarding magic could adapt and work alongside druidism was fascinating, as was the contingency spell itself. Surprisingly enough, Salazar was the one who taught me that trick- the ability to store a few smaller spells as one larger spell.

The nundu started sinking, and the vines and roots snaked around its torso and legs.

At the same time, the shaman unleashed a rockslide from thin air.

But before his rocks could even touch the nundu, it sprang free.

It simply tensed its muscles and snapped the vines and roots, and jumped out of the mud as if it wasn't even there. It sprinted at us, gaining on us real quick.

However, as quickly as the nundu sprung free, the shaman already abandoned his rockslide, spun his staff around and created what felt like a pressure wave in the direction of the massive cat.

The cat was clearly effect by it, it looked like it ran into a brick wall, and it quickly diverted off to the right.

Not wanting to waste time, I started pouring my druidic aura into the plant life around us, forcing it to accelerate growth.

More roots and vines burst forth from the ground, thicker than natural as a result of the magic.

With my outstretched hand I sent them off chasing after the nundu. The nundu dodged back and forth, evading them easily. It even used its claws to slice through several inch thick roots as if it was paper. However, I was doing a good job of leading it farther away from us.

Then out of nowhere one of my vines snatched the back leg of the nundu, causing it to jerk and fall down. I quickly cast an indestructible charm on the vine at distance and commanded the rest of the vines to catch up and tie it up.

However, the nundu simply did a roll, and sprayed its thick green toxic mist. I saw my vines shrivel up, and then with one heave my indestructible vine was not so. I think the toxic breath dissolved the magic.

The nundu sprung up and looked us directly in the eye.

The shaman was next to me, his hands a blur as he worked his magic.

The nundu started to run at us again, but the shaman was ready this time, and out of the ground a massive rock wall formed on one side. And then another followed on the other side.

Then with both of his hands he forced the stone wall to form a funnel triangle. The nundu only had one way to go and that was back. However, the shaman formed one more wall, completely trapping the nundu.

He wasn't done though with his enclosure. I didn't know if the nundu could jump over it, but my fears were needless as he created a top for it.

I could hear the nundu pounding on the wall trying to break through.

I decided to play it safe and cast the indestructible charm on the wall with the elder wand. Hopefully nundu breath cannot erode rock…

The shaman collapsed onto the wall, breathing heavily. Creating such a massive work of magic took a lot of out the elder shaman.

The shaman looked at me and I realized what need to be done. A nundu cannot breathe underwater, so I had to drown it.

I remember the lesson about the aguamenti charm and how it filters water from the air into a stream of water, but in a dry environment it can be dangerous to living plants and animals… and us. I didn't fancy becoming a dry corpse so the only option was direct conjuration or maybe transfiguration.

I have never heard of a direct air to water transfiguration but it was most likely less magic intensive than direct conjuration, especially large scale. I hope that a gas to liquid transfiguration is the same as a liquid to solid one, but regardless it will be harder than a solid to solid change. But not impossible, and certainly within the potential of the Deathstick.

Knowing that his was going to be very intensive I took up a power stance. Left hand outstretched in front of me, and right arm holding my wand in a fencing stance I became to reach out for the magic around me.

My druidic senses reached far and wide feeling for life, and in turn, magic. I took deep, slow and calm breaths. I was reached out for the land's magic, and in return the magic was also reaching out to me.

My eyes widened slightly when I realized how magically rich the land was. There was an enormous amount of dormant magic. There are no leylines either, just dormant magic passively enriching the land.

I started drawing the magic through my personal magical lattice around my inner core before focusing it through the Elder Wand. It was so much easier here in Africa than it was in Britain. Almost overwhelming but I managed to stem the flow from overcharging me.

I focused my mind on the simple process of transmuting air to water. Air already had water in it, so it was a relatively simple leap to change it completely.

I felt my magic take hold as the transfiguration magic started converting the air to water at a slow pace.

After 2 minutes I started to see water leaking out of the edges of the stone. I paid it no heed as I was not expecting the wall to be water tight. I expected a lot of water to be absorbed in the ground also.

To compensate for the inner water pressure pushing on the wall, I used my druidic suggestion to start manifesting some of the dormant magic into plant life.

Within seconds trees started sprouting up around the perimeter of the stone enclosure. Vines started branching up the corners and wherever the water leaks were. The trees slowly grew bigger as they meshed together with the wall, strengthening it. It actually looked like the trees were joining with the stone wall, and I saw faint hint of a magical glow arcing up the trees.

Putting the tree/rock infusion out of my mind, I continued with the large scale transfiguration. Thankfully, I did not have to work on any fancy details of the water. Plain old water was all I needed.

It only took 15 minutes to completely fill the stone prison, but it felt like an eternity. I wiped the sweat off my brow. Although I did no physical exertion, it still felt like I personally carried a bucket and filled the stone prison up with water by hand.

I slowly sat down about 10 feet away from the napping shaman. I once again reached out my sense, this time looking specifically for the nundu. I felt many animals, but nothing larger than a leopard. That meant we won, and the nundu is no longer a threat. Dead.

Before I passed out from exhaustion I waved my wand around and muttered a few protection and repelling charms under my breath. Satisfied that we wouldn't be eaten during the night, I promptly passed out, still leaning up against a tree.

* * *

Harry woke up, still leaning against the tree, to the smell of cooking food. The shaman was carefully tending what appeared to be a large slab of meat.

Harry was alarmed at first. "Nundu?" he said aghast.

The shaman simply gave a broad smile and nodded in return.

Harry groaned in response as he got up from his sleeping position. It was not a very kind position for his back and he regretted falling asleep like that right away.

He walked closer to the fire to see exactly what the shaman was doing.

The shaman was cooking a flank of the nundu on the fire. It was large. The flank probably weighed more than Harry did.

They made eye contact so they could talk to each other. Harry was slightly annoyed with this limitation, but didn't show it.

'I hope you don't expect me to eat all that in one sitting…'

'No, we will convert most of it into Qwant'a. However, certain parts of the nundu must be eaten now if you want to gain any amount of inherent magical powers from them.' As he said that he plucked an eyeball out, put it in the fire for a few seconds, and then promptly ate it.

Harry felt slightly ill.

And then the shaman handed him the second eyeball.

Harry sighed out loud before attempting to eat it. It's not that he has never eaten an eyeball before. It's the fact that this eyeball was the size of a baseball.

He also put it on the fire for a few seconds before taking a tentative bite out of it.

The taste of it was indescribable, but unremarkable. He had nothing to compare it to, not even other eyeballs that he has eaten.

It was very watery and stringy, but not as sponge-like as he thought it would be. Fortifying his fortitude and constitution, he quickly finished off the rest of the eyeball. He coughed a few times, but managed to keep it down while giving off an involuntary shiver.

After that little episode was done though, he quickly realized that something was off.

He quickly spun on his heels, and immedietly noticed that he was faster than he was before. His vision was slightly enhanced as was his hearing.

He perked his ears up, listening for something.

And then he heard it.

He spun quickly back around and caught the rock right before it hit his head. Harry quickly dropped the rock in shock. Even with his natural reflexes and trained seeker skills, there was no way he should have been able to catch that.

He then saw the elder shaman giving him that blasted smirk again. It seems that eating a nundu eyeball did slightly improve his reaction time and speed, and made his hearing and vision a little crisper. It's a shame that overcoming a nundu is next to impossible. He vowed that next time he hunted a nundu, he would bring a dozen more skilled wands.

Harry didn't have the nerve to ask what else he could eat for a temporary boost. Knowing the shaman, he would give him the Nundu genitalia.

Harry was left to ponder to himself for a few minutes and think over the fight he just participated in. He watched as the shaman carefully prepared the massive cat for eating.

Naturally there was several hundred pounds of edibles off the cat, and being mere humans, they could and would not eat it all in one day. Or even in a week and probably a month.

So that meant they had to preserve it, which is what the shaman was currently doing. The shaman managed to keep the nundu hide in one relatively intact piece. He also magically constructed a rig for smoking the large about of meat.

Harry watched in awe as the shaman carefully manipulated the fire with his hands. The shaman had fine enough control over the elements that he could cook and preserve every piece of meat exactly the same, and that was a lot of meat! It didn't taste too bad either. Harry was curious about the taste of the jerky the shaman created, but no doubt he would be sick of it after a month of eating it.

* * *

The light jungle turned into dense rainforest and back into light jungle and eventually back into savannah.

The two travelled for weeks, but it seemed like Harry was almost constantly learning. Nothing major, mind you, but all the small intricacies that no one would actually bother to teach you back in his original time.

There has not been any true magical lessons, from what Harry gathered from their limited conversations is that they were actually travelling to some place to train.

The shaman had a lot to teach too, he was a master of the elements and was attuned with his magic, amongst other things. Harry had a feeling he was a seer and an animagus also, but had no proof to either. The shaman's control of fire and air was only matched by the shaman's control of water, lightning, and earth… The shaman has shown that he is not limited to just what others would call 'elemental magic' but he had not yet seen the shaman cast anything that Harry would refer to as wand magic. Harry is not fond of the term wandless magic, as all his druidic skills do not require a wand, along with stuff like potions and runes.

There has only been one true practical lesson so far. The shaman showed Harry how to cure the nundu pelt. It wasn't inherently difficult, at least with magic. But because the nundu was a very magical creature, special steps had to be taken. Even with magic, shaping the pelt took many days.

Harry worked on it for about an hour every night, and by the time they made it to the savannah on the other side of the rain forest, he had three pieces done.

He compared his armor, because that's what it really was, to the elder's. The elder had several pelts that made up his clothing, along with many animal bones and teeth hanging from his neck and wrists. The most prominent of which was the bear head that sat onto of the shamans own head at times. Harry didn't want the nundu head resting on his own head, and when he asked the shaman, he found out that it was acceptable to have the head resting on his shoulder. Naturally, the head had to be shrunk as it was massive otherwise.

The pelt in all actuality was formed into a breastplate, for lake of a better description. The hide of a nundu is very tough and resistant; more so than any other creature in existence, except possible ancient elder dragon hide. It took quite of bit of time to form the chest piece, but when it was done it fit perfectly and was very comfortable. The shaman was impressed, because Harry now almost looked the part of a shaman-in-training, aside from Harry's obvious light skin color.

Harry only had two other pieces crafted from the pelt. The two bracers on his wrists were not as complicated or sophisticated as his chest piece, but they fit in with the shaman persona that he was going for. By comparison with the elder's wrist-guards, his seemed oddly inadequate, but he couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was the glowing runework on the elder's that Harry does not have on his. Yet.

The main attraction of wearing the pelt as armor was not for its protection, but for its naturalness. Harry didn't quite seem as out of place as he did before while wearing. He doesn't quite stick out like a sore thumb as a foreign wizard and druid. Animals are not longer as spooked by his presence as they were before. His druid charms seemed to be more effective also.

When he asked the shaman about this, he simply responded 'the land has started to accept you.'

* * *

The two men were walking across the African savannah and there was no end in sight.

One day though, they walked through some brush and on the other side was a spectacular view. There was a mountain range in the far distance, but much closer there was a very large tree, much larger than the other trees around it. The tree was in full bloom, and was several hundred feet high. The fruit that adorned the tree were simply massive in size.

Harry and the still unnamed shaman made their way towards the tree. They spotted two beasts grazing in the massive shadow of the tree.

These beasts were also very large, and if Harry were a betting man he would say they are magical. At a distance it looked like a rhinoceros because of its horn, but as he got closer he realized what they were. They were Erumpents. It was a very large beast, larger than the normal rhinos they've seen and even larger than the nundu.

The large beasts simply followed their movements with their heads but did not stop grazing.

The shaman motioned for Harry to follow him up to the tree so he did. When he got there, he once again realized the scope of the colossal tree. The trunk was so large that it seemed flat instead of round.

The shaman set down his pack and started working on something. Harry didn't have an inkling of what the shaman was doing, but it looked like he was inspecting various bones that he had with him.

After a few minutes the shaman started inspecting the massive tree. He was knocking on various parts of the tree and listening closely.

Harry tried to listen in but he didn't notice any different in the knocking when the shaman suddenly maid an exclamation of success.

The shaman drew a circle in midair with his finger and then tapped the tree. A few seconds later it looked like the shaman literally pulled a piece of wood from the tree as if it were a piece of string.

Harry tried to ask what he was doing, but the shaman paid him no heed. The shaman found the bone he was looking for; it was in the shape of a circle. Harry imagined it must be a vertebra but he really had no idea.

The shaman then took piece of wood he extracted from the tree and carefully interweaved it with the bone. It didn't take but a few minutes for the shaman to be satisfied with it.

The shaman put the now obvious ring on one of his fingers, and then with his other hand, he clamped down on it. The shaman started muttering a long string incantation under his breath.

After several tense seconds it looked like nothing happened.

And then Harry smelled something- the smell of ozone.

With that brief warning he shielded his face with his arms as a lightning bolt appeared from nowhere and illuminated the shaman as it swirled around him.

It was an odd experience, watching the lightning seemingly flow around the shaman and not electrocute him. It was a feat he had no hope of replicating any time soon.

This was not normal lightning, Harry figured that out easily enough. It was not because of what the lightning was doing, it was because of its color.

It was not the normal blue, white, or even yellow that people think of as lightning. The color was much more unnatural.

The color of the swirling lightning was that of the Killing curse. Harry immedietly found it ironic that it was the same color as the spell that gave him his lightning bolt scar.

He wondered if there was anything more to that other than fanciful coincidences, but knowing about the quirkiness of magic, there was most likely something a lot deeper going on here. He wasn't one to think about the peculiarities of magic too much, he was always a practical man. Rowena, on the other hand, would be all over the opportunity to research the connection.

Rowena… It was not often that his thoughts wandered to anyone but himself, but he couldn't help but remember that one chaste kissed they shared before he left Hogwarts on this trip.

Harry didn't think the really had a chance of a relationship, what with his ability to rush headlong into yearlong training sessions without thinking it through. Besides, Harry is ageless, while Rowena is not. Even though she still looked very young the last he saw her, unchanged in fact since the first time they met…

He didn't have much time to think about as the lightning bolt formed a helix around the old man and with a resounding –

BOOM

Harry was thrown off his feet as the lightning impacted the shaman, or rather the ring on his finger.

He quickly got back to his feet but the Shaman was perfectly fine, despite the smoking ring on his finger. The shaman looked up, and seemed like he just noticed Harry's presence for the first time.

The shaman took off the smoking ring with a shaky hand and offered it to Harry.

"For me?" Harry asked out loud, clearly bewildered. The shaman nodded his head.

Harry took it and examined it before placing it on his left ring finger. It seemed a natural place to wear it. The ring was remarkable, apparently made from wood of the magical tree in front of him, and bone of the nundu. However, it did not look like bone and wood anymore. Both materials were now partially carbonized due to the odd lightning, but even stranger is how the two materials are no longer plain. They were shaped into that of two intertwined snakes, each with their own tail in their mouths.

"A gift from the thunder spirits." A voice said near him. Harry looked up quickly and saw that it was the shaman that spoke.

"How…?" he asked, once again bewildered.

"A gift from the thunder spirits." The shaman responded once again. "The Ouroboros…" he said pointing to the ring.

"What does that mean…?"

The shaman merely shrugged. "It is for you to interpret, not me."

Before Harry could get his mind around about what just happened, the shaman spoke again. It was apparent that the ring allowed them to understand each other's verbal speech.

"Come with me."

Harry did what he was told and followed the shaman. It was clear they were walking over to where the erumpents grazed peacefully. Harry had seen an erumpent horn blow up once before, many years ago in the future at the Lovegood's home, so naturally he was wary.

The shaman had no such problem though, and walked up right next to the beast. Harry didn't quite see what the shaman did to the beast before he jumped up and mounted on top of it.

Harry didn't want to be undone so he simply let his druid aura wash over the animal. If it was possible for the already at peace animal to become even more peaceful, it certainly happened. The massive beast started mewing in content, almost as if you were petting a cat.

Harry felt that the beast was extremely satisfied and happy, and was now comfortable in his presence, so he jumped up on top of the beast like he saw the shaman do.

He simply had to make an easy suggestion to the animal to command it. "Follow him."

His erumpent sensed his intentions and kept pace next to the elder shaman's beast.

"So…" Harry said out loud. His voice almost sounded foreign to himself.

"Questions will have to wait. We are not there yet."

"I have been waiting for 6 months…"

"And another month should not kill you."

'Shouldn't' Harry said to himself, 'Hardly reassuring.' "Aren't these beasts prone to, uh, exploding?"

The shaman gave a booming laugh, a first. "I assure you that if we die, it will not be from our mounts exploding."

The shaman paused for a few seconds. "We travel for three weeks over rough terrain on these beasts. Then 6 days of walking where these beasts cannot fit."

Harry nodded his head and with a determined gait they continued their journey.

* * *

The reason for using the erumpents as mounts was not obvious at first. After all, with magic anything is possible.

Harry could not think of any situation where he would rather be on a beast who walks slower than he does, unless they could walk on lava. He wasn't sure what the shaman meant by rough terrain… these rhino like beasts were best suited for flat plains.

Harry knew the shaman couldn't apparate, he'd been told as much many months ago. They could have magicked any amount of things to help them travel faster, but instead they are travelling slower than normal walking pace.

He would like to think he outgrew his brash 'Gryffindorness' and was now a very patient person, but he was quickly losing patience.

It was on the second day of erumpent-back travelling where he immedietly noticed something was off.

The shaman kept riding on like nothing was amiss, but Harry felt like the pressure around him was building.

His limbs felt heavy and he was having trouble hearing. He was feeling exhausted although he had done nothing exertive today. It also seemed like the temperature was rising to impossibly hot levels, even for African plains land.

Harry continued to hold onto his mount as it kept marching forward, seemingly unaffected by the sudden change in air pressure and temperature. Harry briefly saw the shaman and his mount pass through a thick series of brush before he himself dived into the foliage.

The foliage was very heavy for nearly 5 minutes. It was very hard to see or hear anything but leaves and branches. Harry was now having trouble breathing, almost as if there was not enough oxygen in the air despite the odd sensation of high pressure and very hot temperatures. It just didn't make sense to him… until he realized it was obviously magically induced.

As suddenly as they entered the bush, they were out of it.

Harry managed to slake off the oppressive environment for a few seconds to take scope of the surroundings.

There was nothing.

Not a single thing moved, aside from themselves and their mounts.

In front of them was not a desert; it was much worse. There was nothing but salt for miles on end. They arrived at the edge of what used to be a lake or sea many millions of years ago, but now is just salt flats for as far as the eye could see.

There was a few pockets of raised land, essentially small islands in the virtual sea of salt. There are a few trees to be seen on these islands and maybe even a few birds if they looked carefully. It was nothing to get their hopes up for though. It was still impossibly hot and impossibly dry, but the Shaman seemed like he had intentions of crossing this.

However, Harry was offered a small reprieved when the Shaman decided to explain the situation.

"The local tribes refer to this salt wasteland as the Makgadikgadi. The ambient magic of this place is oppressive and very old… far older than even me."

"Why are you not as affected by it as I am? I don't think I could walk and I am having trouble breathing… not to mention my head is throbbing."

"It is simple. I am just a shaman, ancient though I am. They ways of the shaman have changed very little in millennia… You on the other hand, you are different than me. You are not yet versed in the shamanistic arts as I am." The shaman raised his hands in front of Harry and closed his eyes, almost as if he was trying to read his soul.

"So you are not as affected because your magic is different?"

"Magic is magic… it just manifests itself in many forms. Magic has no limits, but in the end it is still magic. You are wizard, druid, and a little of something else…"

"Something… else?"

"Yes, yes… I believe you know what I refer to. The old magics. I smell the old magics on you, I have ever since I met you. Part of your magic smells similar to the old magics of this land. You are affected most because of your multiple connections to the forms of magic."

Harry nodded his head to indicate he understood what he was told. The sat on their mounts for a few minutes in silence.

The shaman spoke up suddenly. "And I am not talking about the temporal magics either, rather the opposite."

Harry listened intently. It was not often that the shaman would impart words of this magnitude. Harry could tell that the shaman was going to say more.

"Those three artifacts you have… They are from the Old World."

Harry was startled at such a blatant observation. They were not something this shaman should know about, especially since Harry has never mentioned them before. He hadn't taken the resurrection stone or invisibility cloak out of his bag in a long time. "How did you…"

The shaman raised his hand and Harry immedietly quieted.

"Those artifacts you have are not the only ones from the Old World, nor are they the most powerful. They were created with magic that was around for millennia, but has all but disappeared in recent times."

Harry had a faint idea of where this conversation was heading. "Is this related to the rise of wizard magic and the slow exodus of Elves and Dwarves?"

"In part. These artifacts of the old ways though, they were not made by elves, dwarves, goblins or even humans –"

"Are you telling me that the child's tale of Death creating them is true?" Harry blurted out.

"Most certainly not." the shaman laughed. "It is hard to explain the old magics to one who has not seen or use them first hand. Those artifacts were made my magic itself, as a self correcting balancer. Old Magic reaches out to those in need, and provides. To quote a saying that has not yet been said… 'Wish upon a shooting star and it might come true…' That is the old magic."

Harry thought he understood. Old magic had no form, it was everywhere and nowhere at once, but still a mystery. It was an infinite vat to be pulled from and harnessed, but something changed. "How many of these artifacts are there?"

"Once upon a time there were many thousands… Many have been lost to the sands of time though. Still, I would estimate there are still quite a few out there. I myself have one… And I know there are many others even in your homeland and Hibernia."

Harry was bewildered now. "How old are you exactly? I mean no disrespect of course."

"I suppose I never did introduce myself properly did I? Fair enough, we have made it this far so I will tell you before we start this short leg of the journey."

"I am old… very old. My name from the Old World was Oduduwa. I am known in this world by Jordan. I was but a kid when I saw the last of the great cities collapse over 5000 years ago."

"You were alive before ancient Egypt was even created?" Harry exclaimed.

"I was several hundred years old by the time the First Dynasty of Egypt was formed on the destroyed foundations of the Old World. My life story is far too long to tell in this kind of setting so it will have to wait."

Harry nodded his head in understanding. "So you are immortal, like me?"

"Immortality? That is a gross over-simplification. Your artifacts, when controlled by a singular user like yourself, is anti-temporal in natural. It stops time from affecting you. How do you think you are allowed to be in this time in the first place?

" How- "

"I am over 5000 years old, I have seen it all before. You are here because of the Old Magics. Fate, and Time and Destiny- you can say they all share similar interests with the Old Magics. Your artifacts though, they are some of the last made with the Old Magics before the ways were lost to modern man. The Old Magic was all but gone when they were made, and thus they are weaker than those of when the Magic was at its height. You are lucky you are young, because if you lose possession of your set you would most likely be consumed by time."

Harry shivered. "What does your artifact do?"

The shaman held up his artifact in question for Harry to inspect. It was nothing more than a fairly mundane looking pendant with an inch-sized gemstone in it. The gemstone was the most curious thing about the pendant. It was blacker than the blackest night, yet shone with an inner light brighter than an exploding star.

"You will find out all in due time. However, onto more pressing matters. In order to cross this salt flat with ease, you are going to have to give up all but one of your magics."

Harry frowned, he did not like the thought of that. Wizard, Druid, Hallows… It was quickly obvious that he could do a two for one by giving up his Hallows. Without the Elder Wand his standard wizard magic was essentially unavailable. Runic magic was unwieldy in a moving environment, and potions required ingredients they did not have. "Ok, what should I do with the Hallows?"

"If you don't want to lose them, I would suggest banishing them to somewhere safe."

Harry sighed. He didn't want to be without half of his magic. His druid skills were adequate, but he was nowhere near a master with them.

The shaman saw the sigh. "You will not need a wand where we are going, nor in our training. The magic I will teach you predates that of the wand." The shaman responded. "Such a garish creation they are." He added as an afterthought.

"Isn't my home a little far to banish them to?"

"Distance does not matter to the Old Magics."

He thought about it for a second before he came to a sudden realization; he has a 4th Old World artifact. He pulled out the limitless bag of holding that he was gifted before arriving upon this plane of existence. He held it up for the shaman to see.

The shaman quirked an eyebrow in surprise, but then held up a hand to sense the magic within the bag. A few seconds later the shaman nodded his head in satisfaction. "The bag will be acceptable for masking the magic of whatever is inside."

Harry tucked the elder wand carefully inside the bag next to the other two Hallows.

"What about you? Your pendant is Old Magic too."

The shaman smiled. "This pendant was created by Old Magic, true, but it does not use Old Magic like yours all do."

"Is it what is keeping you immortal?"

"I never said I was immortal. Now let's get moving." The shaman switched topics back to the task on hand again. "These salt flats are very dangerous because you can sink in and get stuck, and die. The top is just a dry crust, and to break through would most certainly mean your death. Underneath the crust, essentially, is ancient decomposing fish and insects in nasty thick layers. While you may no longer feel it, this whole area is damping both of our magics. These beasts will not break through due to their even weight distribution and their large feet."

Harry wanted to laugh at the notion that he would break through the salt crust while these beasts could walk over, but he knew better than to distrust the shaman and his 5000 years of experience.

The beasts seemed to sense their rider's intentions and they started moving forward. Harry was very nervous as the beasts slowly walked over the transition from earth to salt. He would compare it with walking on ice and hoping to not break through and drown.

In no time, they were several hundred feet out into the salt and already he had a feeling of impending doom as he looked back at the slowly fading safety.

To ease his slight apprehension, he started thinking back on the enlightening conversation with the Shaman.

Granted, he didn't learn much besides that Magic is seemingly de-evolving and the shaman is a relic left over from the golden age of magic. Back from when magic was more pure and primal… But he gathered that the man cannot use the Old Magic because he is a shaman. Shamanism is a way of life, not just a form of magic, but it still begs the question; what exactly is Old Magic?

* * *

"Quickly now, Artemis!" The shaman yelled. "This is beyond both of our powers."

Harry quickly followed the elder shaman down into a hastily made tunnel. He caught a quick glimpse of the monstrosity that was bearing down on them only a few hundred meters away.

A massive twister was furrowing through the salty expanse. The wind that was generated was impossibly fast and the salt it flung around was more abrasive than sandpaper.

They had already spent two weeks out on the salt flats when this abomination of weather appeared out of a clear sky.

The salt pan was a very hard place to survive. There are very few creatures that take up permanent residence, but that are a couple of migratory animals that travel across it. Plant life was nonexistent except on the isolate islands. They tried their best to make it to these islands by nightfall, but it did not always happen.

The little magic that they could harness under the Old Magic dampeners was of some use, but not nearly enough to fend off the massive twister.

They both came to the quick realization that this twister was formed by magic, but the shaman was the one to realize that it is the byproduct of the Old Magic of ancient times.

The two of them were both sitting in the makeshift confines of a tunnel when the shaman decided to elaborate further.

"I may not have mentioned it in our earlier talks, but this salt pan is the result of an ancient magic catastrophe many millennia ago. Possibly due to the creation of an artifact, I do not know. The magic that we feel all around us is residue from that event. Africa as a whole is very dense with ambient magic, but this place is even more so. This place is not unique either, that are many salt pans like this, although not all as large."

Harry was not quite following. "What is the deal with this twister above us though?"

"It is one of the quirks of the Old Magic." Jordan seemed to be struggling with how to explain the next part. "Magic… Magic of the Old World was sentient. That is the best I can explain. It is rarely seen nowadays, but it can still happen. When too much magic is gathered in one place, the magic can become semi-sentient, along the same lines as the Old Magic."

"So this twister is sentient?" Harry asked with disbelief.

"Not in the way you are thinking. This twister was formed due to the over abundance of ambient magic in the area. Magic had to release some of itself before it explodes, so it decided to take the form of a twister to let off some of its excess."

"I think I understand now, but how do we get rid of it?"

"We don't. I am knowledgeable in the Old Magics, but I am not an expert, or even a practitioner. I took up the path of the Shaman, because it is more refined, and more controlled, but still primal in essence. There is nothing for it but to wait it out."

"But that could take days?" Harry asked with disappointment.

"Maybe even weeks or months. I do not know."

"This tunnel is kind of a cramped place to spend a month in."

"Let us hope that it does not last a month then, my magic is not up for the task right now of expanding it."

"I can barely feel my internal magic at all. The twister is probably right over us."

"A fair assessment." Jordan replied.

They sat in quite for a while before the shaman spoke up again.

"I met one of the creators of your 'Hallows' you know. Cadmus Peverell, creator of the stone you know as the Resurrection Stone. I met him near his home on the outskirts of the Colli Albani, back when I travelled far and wide. I was already ancient by this time, but it was still neigh on two thousand years ago. I was travelling the world, becoming more attuned with the ever-changing environments around us. I was fascinated with volcanoes, you see, and he lived near one. That stone of yours is actually from the volcano there, but it is not like any of the other traditional volcanic stone. There not much to it other than it is a very rare magical stone that has not been mined since before even I entered this world. The stone was unchanged by the volcano, unaffected by the intense heat. I believe that the stone came from the very Heart of the Earth itself. Magic is strongest there, at least that's what the old sayings say."

Harry contemplated the words. That was a pretty random story, and gave him a lot to think about.

"Ah, what timing, it seems as if the twister has passed." The shaman exclaimed all of a sudden. Harry didn't notice anything change, but apparently Jordan did.

Harry gave a sigh of relief. They climbed out of their hole, and to their relief the two erumpent mounts were miraculously unharmed. It would take more than a massive twister to hurt the two tough beasts.

* * *

The trip across the salt pan was fairly boring, ignoring the few hours of being assaulted by a magical twister. Jordan was forthcoming with some ancient magical history, and more than a few stories of famous people he had met through his long lifetime. It was a surreal experience, if he was honest with himself.

The man was around 5000 years old; he's outlived vampires for Merlin's sake! And here he was, leading Harry around who knows where in Africa.

He was ever-curious about Old Magic though, as the shaman kept referring to it. Jordan said it was all but gone, but that just meant that it was still around but in a very small way. It was a way of saying that it will always exist in some form as long as someone believed in it, so naturally Harry was curious.

There wasn't anything Harry could do about it though. The shaman may have been alive during the time, but he said was not trained in the Old Ways. Harry followed Jordan across Africa to learn about Shamanism, not ancient magic that he had no hopes of truly understanding.

It was almost three weeks to the day when they finally made it across the salty wasteland. Even with magic at their disposal, they were both in pretty bad shape, but nothing a little bit of good food and water couldn't fix. Their skin was worse for the wear, Harry's more so because of his paler complexion. There was no rain, and lots of salt in the wind, but that was all in the past now. What's a little starvation and dehydration between friends anyways?

They continued travelling forward; a steep mountain that was only a few hours away was their destination.

The mountain was large and rocky, as one would expect. It was not the tallest mountain around, but it is also not connected to any other mountain ranges. The elder shaman clearly had the intentions of climbing to the summit of the mountain. Thankfully Harry could see a jagged, but clear path that meandered up the side of the mountain.

The erumpents would not be able to make the journey, so Jordan released them both back into the wild.

Harry pulled the Elder Wand out of his infinite bag of holding. He sighed in content as he felt comfortable feel of the magic embrace him. He scratched his chin in contemplation though. He didn't need all three of the Hallows on him personally to have the temporal magics to work, but when he had all three in the ancient bag of holding, the magic could not connect to him. He only needed one on him at a time for the magics to take hold, or even just in his presence. He would be the first to tell you he truly didn't understand how they worked.

He felt the facial hair on his face. It was a new development. His 18 year old body could not grow a beard, but apparently this new one did. He aged three years physically in the three weeks he was disconnected from the Hallows. Still, his body was still very young at 21 years old, and hopefully it would not age anymore. He decided that he would eventually turn the resurrection stone back into a ring and wear it around at all times, just in case.

Harry was still curious as to how the shaman is still alive at 5000 years old. Harry had to rely on the Hallows for his future longevity, but if what the shaman said is true, and it probably is, the Hallows are some of the weaker artifacts of the Old World. Even though he is immortal, it is a tough concept to get your head around, especially since he was still only in his late twenties.

The intricacies of magic have never been his strong point, nor will they ever be, he imagined. These crazy ideas are probably easier for Rowena or someone like the future Dumbledore to understand.

He put the matter to the back of his mind before he prepared for the small journey up the side of this mountain.

Harry took a few minutes to stretch his body out from the long periods of sitting down on the mount. He then noticed that the Shaman didn't wait for him and was already a few dozen feet up the narrow rocky path.

He quickly checked over his boots and gear before setting off up the path after Jordan.

After a scant dozen feet he already noticed a change in the weather, but it was different that what he felt going across the salt pan.

The temperature was simply dropping at a steady rate as he walked up the path. Every step he took he got a little colder, and he was not too high off ground level yet.

He caught up with the shaman after a few hundred feet, but he was shivering uncontrollably. The shaman simple raised an eyebrow at Harry's predicament, seemingly unaffected himself. Harry tried multiple spells of both druid and wizarding nature, but none of them would warm him up. It was almost as if his very soul was freezing.

Just as he was sure he was going to start feeling the extreme effects of hypothermia and frost burn, the temperature around him gradually returned back to normal. The shaman didn't even falter in his steps, but Harry had to take a minute for the shock of his system to recover.

Not one to back down from a challenge, Harry quickly caught back up to the shaman. The shaman was using his staff as a walking stick by this point in time though, to help with the sloping path. He was hardly a spring chicken after all.

Harry looked around and noticed that they were quite a bit above the salt flats, jungles, and savannah. You could see quite a distance away before you started to see air distortion caused by the heat.

Speaking of heat, Harry was starting to sweat profusely. He was wondering if he was suddenly out of shape, or if it was getting hotter as he climbed the mountain. They were not even directly in the sun at the moment, but the air was feeling very stuffy and very hot.

Once again, the Shaman was seemingly unaffected.

Harry tried again to use his magic too cool himself, but it was too no avail. He was sweating profusely, and it felt hotter than any day he has ever experienced in his life. His eyes started to become dry as his body slowly lost its internal water. He made a symbol in the air with his left hand, and felt the magic flow through his fingertips and connect with the ambient magic, but simply fade out after that with no effect.

It felt as if his internal magic was the only thing keeping him from fainting, and in truth he probably wasn't far off. Not to mention his stubbornness to not fail in this unannounced challenge. He kept walking though, keeping pace with the shaman who steadily walked on with the soft clinking of his gnarled staff.

Harry was about to try some desperate measures when the intense heat was replaced by intense rain in the blink of an eye. Harry savored in the feeling for minutes before he became absolutely soaked with water and was even having a hard time standing up through the brutal assault. But still, he kept walking, although he was having trouble keeping up with Jordan who was still walking ahead with not a care in the world.

The rain stopped after about 30 minutes and Harry got a slight reprieve from the bizarre weather occurrence. He knew it couldn't be natural, so that meant magical, especially since nothing he seemed to do could help himself except extreme constitution and willpower.

After about an hour of normal African weather, Harry started to get into his comfort zone. Just when he thought the tribulations were over, sheer walls of fire erupted from all around him, as if a fast moving brushfire was blazing the countryside.

Harry immedietly brought up his arms to cover his face from the splashing flames, before quickly rolling off behind himself. He half-heartedly brought up his wand to cast a spell. His magic hasn't protected him in the past occurrences, so he wasn't expecting it to work now.

He cast a flame freezing charm at the fire closest to him, and to his surprise it actually worked. He had more sense than to actually stand there with his mouth gaping like a fish so he quickly tossed out a bunch of the same flame freezing charm and managed to keep the flames at bay while he caught up with the shaman.

Harry was curious as to why his magic worked on the flames, but not on the previous weather occurrences. He didn't have enough information to form any conclusions though, so he did the only thing he could do which was forge ahead and hope for the best. The shaman didn't seem to be in a talking mood though, which was common, but the timing couldn't be worse.

The flame escapade lasting for over an hour, but thankfully the flame freezing charm he was using was a simple spell taught early on at Hogwarts, and thus it did not take too much energy to repeatedly cast. It was a holdover from the witch-burning era and adults wanted to make sure their kids could get away alive.

Harry was really exhausted by the end of the day, so he had to stop for the night. The shaman obliged and they set up a small camp on the narrow path. Harry fell asleep nearly instantly, but before he did he saw the shaman simply meditating next to a small fire.

Harry only managed two hours of sleep before he was awakened by very loud thunder and lightning. The familiar smell of ozone permeated the area as the lightning clashed overhead. Jordan was still meditating over by the fire, but he might have actually been sleeping like that, it was hard to tell.

There are no clouds in the air so Harry immedietly realized the weather was once again magical in nature. Harry was very groggy from being interrupted from his sleep, but there was no way he was going to fall back asleep with the sound of thunder roaring overhead.

He was also feeling very exposed on the side of the mountain. He had no desire to get fried by lightning, magical or not, so he did the first thing he thought of. He transfigured a rock into a large metal pole to act as a lightning rod and set it up a dozen feet away. He cast a silencing charm for good measure and fell asleep once again.

Harry managed almost two hours of sleep before he was woken up again. It seemed that his silencing charm wore off, but there was no thunder of lightning this time. Just a very loud whistling sound.

He contemplated what the sound was before it hit him full force in the face. It was the sound of battering winds rushing over the mountainside.

He didn't know any magic that could stop wind, so the only thing to do was to create a physical barrier. Harry looked over at the shaman, who will still in a deep meditation, but was seemingly unaffected by the intense winds.

It was hard trying to keep his balance and cast the magic needed to protect himself from the vicious winds. He decided to try to buy himself some time by counteracting some of the wind directly.

The druid within him screamed as he reached his senses out and examined the enemy wind. His senses were telling him that the wind was not natural, but not completely magical either. There was a familiar feel to the magic, but he still could not place it.

Deciding that he did not want to waste anymore time, he commanded his druidic magic and created his own wind in the opposite direction. All wind that would come at him would divert around his wind zone in a circular pattern. It wasn't perfect as it was generally more effective when using natural weather, but it was better than nothing.

Some wind was still coming through, but at a fraction of the intensity as before. He could stand up without the chance of being pelted down the mountain. Harry pulled his wand out of his holster and started transfiguring the nearby environment into useful cover.

When he was done, he examined the solid stone that made up the temporary cave. He conjured a sleeping mat, got in the hole, and covered the entrance. He attempted to cast a transparency enchantment on the rock so the shaman would see him, but it kept failing. It was not a failure from his end, but he was very tired and did not want to contemplate it as he fell asleep once more.

When he woke up the next morning, he was very surprised. His makeshift shelter was covered with snow, as was most of the area around him for a few thousand feet. It was several feet deep also, but to a trained wizard that was no problem.

He looked around for any sign of the shaman, and to his surprise Jordan was gone. However, he did see footprints leading up the trail so he knew he went on ahead.

Harry had a few choices. Now that he was alone, his first idea was to get out his firebolt from his bag of holding. Once he pulled it out though he realized that the charms were no longer active, or being suppressed. He was not surprised at the revelation; it would have made this whole trip easier if he could just fly everywhere.

He had to keep climbing the path though, so he settled for transfiguring his boots into snowshoes. He thought about blasting his way through the snow with flame spells, but he was still sore from the previous day and did not want to over exert himself.

Harry only walked for about 30 minutes before the mysterious weather appeared once again. This time it was in the form of boiling rain. His skin scalded for a few seconds before he managed to covered up all his exposed areas. The cloth he was wearing quickly became soaked though and started burning him again.

He tried drying charms to no avail, as well as waterproofing charms. It seemed once again that any spells he cast on himself had no effect. A druidic impervious spell also had no effect, along with barkskin.

The only thing to do was to get more clothes to cover himself with, or maybe use his nundu pelt as a tarpaulin. Or on a brilliant epiphany, he simply transfigured an umbrella. He quickly opened it up over his head. It was simple, but effective.

It was curious to note, however that the boiling rain was not melting the snow. Sometimes magic is a plain old pain in the ass.

The rest of the walk up the mountain was much of the same. Very little sleep, very little food, and very exhausting.

It thundered many times over the week, with lightning in every color of the rainbow. It snowed while being extremely hot, and it boiling-rained while being extremely cold. Flash fires were also very common, at all ranges of temperature, and often paired with blizzards or rain. There was also cold fire in every color, hot snow in every color, flooding, and then there was reverse flooding, raining and snowing where they defied the laws of gravity. There was even a tornado going up the side of the mountain one day that acted like a black hole instead of the normal high speed winds. There were even lava flows and ice storms, and one day of acid rain. Much of it was hard to describe without actually seeing it for yourself. His dreams were equally bizarre; he imagined thunder making the sound of bleating sheep and everything from frogs to elephants raining from the sky.

He figured out relatively early that it was a test of his inner fortitude. He came to the conclusion that it was the shaman Jordan causing all the weather patterns, as some sort of final test before the true training. The weather's magic felt off, and that was because it was shamanistic magic. That is why he could not control it with his druid skills.

Towards the end of the week he was able to get a small sense for what shamanistic magic actually felt like compared to the other ambient magic, but beyond that he had no clue on how to harness it or defend against it.

During the course of the trip across Africa, Jordan never did use too much of his magic. It was mostly survival type skills Harry learned and adapted his magic for, not the impressive naturalistic magic that was lighting up the night sky at the current moment.

It was with great trepidation that Harry finally arrived at the top of the mountain. He was impressed by what he saw in front of him.

There was nothing in front of him, except for a lake. Well, he only realized it was a lake when he walked into it. The water had no color and was completely clear like the air around him.

It was disconcerting that the few fish in the lake looked to be flying through midair, but in reality were swimming in the invisible water.

Harry gently berated himself before walking out of the invisible lake. He then took his surroundings in one more time. He could see most of the African countryside around him, from the large salt flats to the dense jungles.

It was a scene he had never witnessed before; true beauty. There was no pollution, overpopulation, or modern civilization. There was just pure primal wilderness. Harry had been a loner most of his life, and he really enjoyed the solitude of the land.

He continued looking around and finally spotted a hut on the other side of the lake, so that is where he headed.

He was about 20 feet away from the hut when the shaman in question came out of the door, and greeted him.

"Ah, you are alive! The spirits must have taken a fancy to you, or you are made of tougher stuff than I thought."

"I assume I passed your challenge then?" Harry responded dryly.

"Come here, let me inspect you…" The shaman closed the distance and held the young wizard at arms length.

Then without warning the shaman raised two fingers and traced a lightning bolt on Harry's forehead. "Harry Potter. The thunder spirits told me about you a long time ago. You have a fascinating story if I do say so myself."

* * *

Author Notes.

I apologize in advance because I promised Rowena/Harry would be starting next chapter, but his chapter was simply too long so I had to split it up. The next chapter is not completely finished, but I have 8000 words of it done already. I might even have to split that one up again also. It should not take nearly as long to finish it as it took to post this one.

Since there was a 3 month gap in between updates, I fear that some of it might not be quite in tune with the earlier chapters.

I actually like how this chapter turned out. In my mind it does not really read like a book, but almost as if someone was telling it as a story around a campfire. It was unintentional as I am just an uneducated novice write, and I do know I have a serious problem with was/were/is/are. This is the only story of mine that I actually enjoy reading myself. I have reread this chapter 6 times for proofreading, but I am not perfect especially when reading my own material.

Mentions of 'Old Ways' and 'Old Magic' will not really have a big role in this story. In the barest of ways, it is just the magic that all other magic is based on, the raw magic and not the actual spells. It will be explained slightly more in the next chapter, although mere youngsters like Harry will have problems understanding it. I would like to say that fanon version of wandless magic does not exist in this story. No shooting stunners out of your hands, sorry.

Druidism and shamanism are very similar, but I would say that druidism is more nature based while shamanism is elemental base. They also have slightly different methods of harnessing magic, but both can utilize a literal 'hands on' approach in some cases. Druidism involves a lot of natural instinct and self awareness of one's inner magic, along with rudimentary runic symbolism expressed with the hands. Next chapter goes in depth into shamanism. There are some magics that are unchanged across disciplines, just in nature of the spell. Methodology such as intention and willpower are universal constant with all magic, but the ways of expressing your intention is what changes in many cases.

I only chose one 'real' location in Africa, and that was the Makgadikgadi salt pan. It is in northeast Botswana. The weather stayed much the same while Harry was in Africa, he was more in the north when he arrived there in winter, and went further south as it became warmer.

Oduduwa is the name of an African legendary figure. The renaming of Jordan is intentional and will have a small part in the next chapter. A brief cameo crossover really, and it is pretty obvious what it will be.


	12. Rite of Initiation

Disclaimer: I own none of this, The HP universe and character was created by JKR.

* * *

Harry would be lying if he said he wasn't freaked out. He had never once mentioned his real name to the shaman, always using his 'Artemis Entreri' identity. He slowly traced over his forehead where the shaman touched him. He hadn't felt his scar in nearly 10 years, so it was a little disconcerting when the shaman traced where it used to be.

The shaman noticed that Harry still wasn't saying anything, probably due to confusion or shock, so he simple continued his conversation.

"I will let you rest for a bit, to recuperate from the tiring journey. That does not mean that I will not teach you; the history, rules, traditions, general purpose and way of life of a Shaman does not require you to exert yourself. Go inside the hut and rest, you should find it preferable to sleeping out in the open."

Harry walked off towards the hut muttering about crazy old shamans. He was surprised to see the inside of the hut was magically expanded. He was under the impression that spacial expansion was something that you could only do with wanded disciplines of magic, but he decided he would ask before making and wrong judgments.

It didn't take too long to find any empty room for himself; after all there were only 4 rooms in the hut. Still, after living in the African bush for over half a year, it was like a penthouse. He actually had something to look forward to now though- the start of his training. Hopefully it would not take too long as he did not want to stray from Britain for too much longer.

* * *

Harry woke up the next day and saw the shaman was meditating in the communal 'living room'. The shaman's eyes snapped open when he entered the room.

"Ah, you are awake. I trust you slept well?"

"I do feel refreshed, more so than ever."

"Good, that is the natural magic of the lake here at work."

"I do have a question for you, before you have me do whatever…" Harry said. The shaman simple gave him a nod to go ahead and ask. "The expansion charms on this structure, I thought you need wizarding magic to create it?"

"You should know by now that there are many different ways to get the results one desires. I may follow the shamanistic way of life, but in the end I am still a magic user. There are many magics that remain unchanged across disciplines, be you druid, mage, shaman, necromancer, sage, cleric, or even a different species. The magic in question though is runic magic. Runic magic is one such magic that is relatively unchanged across disciplines."

Harry nodded his head in acceptance. "I do know a bit about runes, I had some basic lessons."

"The runes to expand this hut are not really runes by nature, but the written language of my people. What is magic other than the expression of our will and intent? It does not matter how you express your intent, be it written, verbal, thought, hand signals, rituals, or wand movements, you do your part and the magic will do the rest."

Harry knew as much already; magic responds to your intent. He also knew there was different ways to cast the same spell by using different languages and such. What he wanted to know is what exactly separates shamanism from the rest.

* * *

He would begin to learn the answer to that after a week of being at the mountain summit lake.

The elder shaman beckoned Harry to follow him. The shaman constructed a floating wooden pier that stretched out into the middle of the invisible lake. It was quite eerie seeing it floating like that, but weirder things have happened when Harry and magic are concerned.

At the end of pier there were two cushions, and Jordan indicated for Harry to sit.

"By now you should be familiar with common meditation techniques." The shaman stated. "Find your inner peace and your inner magic."

Harry was quite adept with meditation techniques by this point in time, both from his druidic training and from watching the shaman do it so often. It helped with his often-neglected occlumency. Harry let himself focus on his internal magic while the Shaman kept talking. Most wizards went their whole life without even knowing what their own magic felt like, but Harry was quite intimate with his.

"I trust you are sensing the magic around you. Your previous druidic exercises are of great use for feeling the land's magic and what it has to offer you." The shaman spoke in soft tones. "I know you have been wondering what exactly separates a shaman from the rest of the world."

"I assume by now you are feeling all the magic around you as it swells and ripples. Focus your senses at the location about ten paces to your right and at eye level." The shaman raised his hand and from thin air a ball of crimson fire hovered in midair. "Do not focus on the fire, focus on the magic. Notice what the magic felt like before I called the flames, and then when the flames have answered."

Harry did as he was told. The swirling magic in question felt vaguely familiar, like he had known it his whole life, but at the same time there was something fundamentally different. He also noticed it was the same feeling the magic had while trekking up the mountain path.

The shaman went through the same motions a few times, each time going slower.

"Feel the magic and notice there is no difference from when the flames are there, and when the flames are not. The magic forms before it takes on its physical effect. If I want fire, I simply coax the fire spirits into making it fire. If I want ice, I shall ask the spirits of ice."

Harry wanted to ask what he meant by 'asking the spirits' but he was cut off by the shaman continuing his monologue.

"Shamans are known for their seer-like divination abilities. In truth, I can see the future no better than the next man. But that does not mean I cannot ask the spirits for a little help. You can see where a spell is before it is formed. It is a form of precognition, which is a seer-like ability, but any magic-user can learn it if they are disciplined enough. Truly seeing the future is a gift from the Old World and a rare gift at that, passed down through the bloodlines, getting rarer and rarer as time goes on. Shamanism, like many other magics, takes ideas from the Old World as well. Merely sensing the ambient magic around you, and coaxing it to your whim are two separate things altogether, something that shamans specialize in. "

"How do you control the ambient magic around you?" Harry asked in excitement. "And I don't follow you with the whole 'communicating with spirits' idea."

"It is easier to use the magic around you for its most obvious purpose. It is easier to create a large fire if you already have a small fire. It is about the amount of potential that the magic has. It is easier to create nature and the elements rather than man-made items or life. If I want thunder, it is much easier if I ask the thunder spirits for their blessing."

"Ask the thunder spirits for their blessing?" Harry repeated, confused.

"Remember, magic is all about your belief and intent. Magic will respond to your call, and it will react to your intentions. That is the way it worked in the Old World, and that is the way it works in the New World. Magic has a mind of its own sometimes, remember that. All the finer details are simply the lack of discipline, willpower, or intent. The mightiest arcane mage to ever live could control magic without any outward showing of intention. But most of us use hand gestures, spoken word, and the like, if not to help along the magic, but for our own reinforcement to know we cast the right spell."

Harry thought about what shaman said for a few minutes before he finally started to understand. He uses the idea of communicating with spirits as a focus for intent.

"Is there a difference between a God and Magic?" Harry asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Does it matter?" the shaman replied. "It's the belief that matters, but the results are the same."

"I suppose so…"

"In time you will come to understand. It may take years to understand it." The shaman stated before continuing on with the rest of the basic lesson.

"Since the magic is from nature around you, it does not tire you magically as quick as standard spells. It can be very exhausting physically though. Remember the Nundu; I created the stone prison from the ground and was very physically exhausted after such a forceful use of my magic. It felt like I literally pulled the stone from the ground myself… But then remember back to the day we first met when I was being attacked by that group of wizards; I was not magically or physically tired after using the natural elements on them for the whole day."

"Do shamans have any spells that are equivalent of my wizarding ones?"

"There are some, but remember that the main different between you in me is that I rarely use my internal magic, while you, as a wizard, rely extensively on it. That does not mean I cannot use my own magic, it can be used much the same way, but it is not completely the same."

Jordan went to demonstrate his statement. He took a wide stance and spread his arms apart. He moved his body in a way that was clearly intentional, and after about 10 seconds it looked like he was holding lightning in his bare hands. With another movement, the lightning between his hands connected into one arc.

Then with one swift movement, he threw the whole arc of lightning out in one controlled fan. Harry watched in awe as the lightning unnaturally skipped across the surface of the lake before fizzling out on the other side.

He did understand one important comparison though. With druidism, it was all about controlling the plant and animal life around him. He could also control the ambient magic around him, like shamanism, but everything he knew how to do required druidic incantations and hand movements. The shaman's manipulation of ambient magic did not require any incantations of any kind. It was more about asking the magic to do your intention, instead of forcing it to. You get different results by doing so. Harry supposed it was like holding the shift-key down on a keyboard to get a new set of symbols to use.

With that conclusion in his mind, he started focusing on the task at hand. Jordan was back to talking about precognition and recognizing raw magic as it formed into a cohesive spell.

It was easier said than done. You either had to be very good at multi-tasking, or you had to be able to see your environment and the ambient magic at the same time. Harry knew it was the latter; the shaman wanted all of his senses to work as one.

"Precognition has many uses. In combat it can act as if you are reading someone's mind. In fact you can stop spells before they are formed by snuffing the magic out of existence or diverting its use. We will simply continue with your recognition before working on the precognition."

Harry gave a sigh of relief. He didn't want to be over-pressured so early on. The shaman simply stood at the edge of the dock and pointed to where he would control the ambient magic for him to sense.

"With enough practice you will be able to tell which spell is coming at you before it is even formed. You will find that this is much easier to do against a wizard than a shaman, so once you master the hard way, you can easily adapt it to the other magical disciplines."

Harry could sense the magic, but getting it to conform to his will without an incantation was very bothersome. He was giving out mental suggestions, seemingly to himself, but no matter what he did the ball of ambient magic would just fade away.

The shaman seemingly knew this would happen, and had tons of patience being a 5000 year old man. It would be a long time before Harry would get any results.

* * *

It was many weeks later before he would finally get a result. The weeks were not wasted of course, he would meditate every day with the shaman, and the shaman would teach him some history and continue with the nonmagical 'practical' lessons and his ways of life. The survival lessons continued; they made some trips into the brush on the side of the mountain.

It was not a professor-student type relationship. It was more of a master-apprentice relationship, which was to be expected. The shaman would teach Harry in the form of stories and anecdotes, along with the practical lessons. Many of the stories were told in third person, but Harry got the impression that many of them were true stories lived by the Shaman himself. There was hardly a situation that the man had not found himself in at one point in time. The man has killed 17 nundus in his lifetime, amongst other things. That's about one every 300 years.

Harry was currently in his meditative state, trying to get any result out of the ambient magic the shaman was gathering for him. If he could turn the magic into an effect, then he would know what it feels like so he could gather the magic himself. With druidic magic, it was slightly simpler since he did not directly control the ambient magic; he used an intermediary such as his own internal magic with incantations to connect with it and push it along. But now that the intermediary was out of the picture it was very tough.

Harry learned early on to not get disappointed when he got no results. The shaman was not afraid to whack his knuckles with his staff. It was an effective deterrent for disappointment.

His progress was never completely stale. Every day of meditating he became just a little bit closer with the magic around him, and a little bit more attuned with his surroundings, and slightly more able to concentrate his senses at the same time. It's like patting your head, rubbing your stomach, and reaching his druidic senses out at the same time, while smelling the natural smells of the mountain. Every day he got slightly better.

He felt the magic form to his right, near where his visual periphery would be, and he started a mantra in his head. 'Turn into water. I ask the spirits of water to perform this task.' He repeated the mantra for a few hours.

Harry wasn't sure if he was starting to believe in the spirits or what, but without warning he felt the magic change. The concentrate area of magic in the condensed ever so slightly that he thought he missed it at first. And then he felt it start to slowly change. He opened his eyes and saw a small ball of water floating in the air.

The shaman applauded his efforts. "Good start. Now you know what it feels like. Now you just have to indicate your intentions better. If you are not specific, your magic will be vague as well. You simply asked for water, and the spirits provided, but you were obviously expecting more. This place has a lot of magical potential to offer for your practice, so I would not worry too much. We will pick this up tomorrow; I will let you sleep on this small success."

* * *

It would be a few days before Harry got similar results. When he did though he made sure to memorize exactly what he did to get the results so he could perform again.

It worked slightly. It seemed that the magic itself was resisting Harry's will and urges. Jordan said the spirits were simply being playful.

Whatever it was it was starting to get on Harry's nerves.

Jordan simply responded by saying. "You have to coax the magic, not command or plead with it."

"Does bribing work?" Harry asked with a laugh. Surprisingly the shaman didn't laugh back.

"Sacrifice works with every form of magic. Follow me, I shall show you how to offer to the spirits. Maybe you will even meet one."

They walked toward the hut. Nearby there was unlit pyre of wood.

"What are we going to sacrifice?" Harry asked with as light bit of apprehension. He didn't think they would sacrifice an animal, but never say never.

"The spirits are immaterial, so we can either offer them something physical, or simply offer them magic. Spirits of Flame like to light things on fire, so if we offer them something that is combustible, they will be more prone to listen to you."

They were both standing next to the pile of wood that was set up in a pyramid fashion.

"What we are about to do is called a Rite, but I've been doing this for so long that I do not really need to try at it anymore." The shaman said with no hint of gloating. "Since you are new, I will eventually show you how to go through every motion properly and what it all means."

Harry was expecting the shaman to speak in a long incantation, or do some sort of ritual dance, but Jordan simply summoned his gnarled staff and tapped the pile of wood with it. The Pyre immedietly burst into life. "Remember, it is all about your intention. Young and unskilled apprentices may need to perform various rituals in order to declare their intentions, but you should be able to do without relatively quickly, as you have similar experience with such things. Rituals do have their use though. Not all shamans are magic users like you and me. Rituals can be used by those without magic to connect with the spirits, although it is slightly more difficult. The spirits to not discriminate."

Harry watched as the pyre slowly lit on fire. It was slightly odd to see that there was no smoke, but then he realized that the wood was not actually burning. After a few minutes the flames were quite large, shooting up about 10 feet in the air.

Then the flames started to actually form into the vague form of a female human. At first it was just a face with long tendrils of fire wreathing the face like hair. Then slowly the neck formed, then the torso and breasts, and all the way down the hips and legs.

Harry stared at the figure in front of him, not because it was attractive, but because he didn't expect it to actually work. But standing in front of him clearly _something_ and it just happened to look like an orange, yellow, and red, fiery female human.

The fire spirit blew a kiss at Harry before running off across the lake, her feet barely touching the water as she bound away with an unknown grace.

"Is that an actual spirit or just the magic emulating what you think a spirit looks like?" Harry asked.

"Does it matter?" the shaman responded once again. "The result is the same no matter what you believe. I hope as my shaman apprentice that you will come to believe in what I believe."

It was clear that Harry and Jordan were under different impression on what they thought a spirit was. The shaman knows it is the manifestation of sentient magic, while Harry thinks they are similar to ghosts. Either way, it acted like it had at least some capability of rational thought.

The spirit reached a seeming random spot on the lake before floating up, doing a spin, and then winking out of existence.

* * *

Harry was sitting on the very familiar cushion on the floating dock. He was still working on the manipulation of shamanistic magic. Or rather shamanistic magic is simply the process of tapping into the ambient magic around him and shaping it into are not too many true shamanistic spells that use internal magic. Either way, it was confusing.

He felt the magic of the invisible lake underneath him, and in front of him there was a ball of magic, he was slowly, but surely, shaping it into cylindrical shape.

"A little more, you are almost there." Jordan encouraged.

Barely 5 seconds after that Harry managed to form the connection in the magic. He opened his eyes in front of him and saw that there was now a pillar of water in front of him about a foot in diameter, exactly what he was looking for.

He closed his eyes again and focused his will upon asking the magic to form an arch. This time the magic was easier to manipulate and his arch formed quickly.

The shaman started to clap. "Impressive."

Harry gave a legitimate smile in thanks. He didn't want to break his concentration by talking.

"Now use your hands. Carve the water. Show your intentions."

Harry did what he was told, stood up, and flexed his hands. He made a gesture with his hand as if he was choking someone, or maybe wrangling a snake. He forced the water to curve into a spiral instead, with a simple motion of his hand. The hand motions did not explicitly do anything to the magic, but it did help him get keep focus on his task. Every little trick helps.

He got a little too excited though, when he tried to twist the water column into the pretzel and he lost the magic back into the æther. Harry sighed in defeat, but savored the small victory.

* * *

Over the weeks and months Harry's control over the magic around him grew significantly, but there was always so much for Harry to learn. As expected, it is not all about throwing magic around.

He learned about the shaman's role in society or in a tribe. Jordan's role is that of a guardian, a protector, a healer, a spiritual leader, and an advisor, just to name a few.

Thankfully many of the shaman's ideals were very similar to that of a druid's so he would not have conflicting roles. Druids do tend to be more reclusive, but shamans have been known to be hermits also. Jordan was the elder shaman of the village Harry first met him at, but that village was completely slaughtered by Sighard Slytherin and his men.

Harry slowly became adept at feeling the magic as it formed into a spell, before it was visible. That also went along with identifying what the magic would be used for, before it was used.

The shaman would send spells at him, and Harry would identify them on feel alone, without the use of his eyes. The shaman was not a user of wizarding magic by any means, but he was capable of emulating many basic spells.

Harry asked the Shaman one day about it.

"Jordan, what is the story behind wands and why can't you use one?"

"Wands have their uses, I will not lie. They were not around in the beginning though, as I have told you before. The old magic is primal, and it lacks finesse. There are things you can do with a wand that cannot be cast any other way. The easiest way to think of it is this; Wands are a tool. Tools are meant to make your life easier by allowing you to get the job done quicker. They offer shortcut to the uninspired, or they can be a paintbrush to an artist. You know how long it has taken you to get a true feeling for the shamanistic magic. You know what magic feels like. There are those amongst you who will never feel what true magic is, and they will just say a few words and get a result. But then again, there are those of you, like Merlin, who took up the simple tool and became a master craftsman with it."

"But the speed in which you can cast spells with a wand can save your life, compared to how long it takes to form even some of the simplest spells without a wand."

"No doubt, but that is the nature of using your internal magic rather than the earth's. I cannot use a wand because I am far too old, and my magic far too imbedded in the wilds around us. Wands are a tool, because they act as a focus for ones inner magic. My inner magic cannot connect like this. One has to train their magic to be used to wands, through repeated use. I did not have this repeated use when I was young. In fact, wands did not become popular until several hundred years after I was born."

"Didn't the wizards of old use staffs rather than wands?"

"True, but their purpose is the same. Staffs were far easier to make, as they did not require many fancy tools to create. Plus a staff is also a fairly handy physical weapon and a cane for old people like me. Wands are more portable, unless you can hide yours like I can."

"How do you hide your staff?" Harry asked, getting the idea of what the shaman was saying.

"I hide it in the folds of magic itself. And before you ask, it is not a skill I can teach, it is something you can only learn through experience."

"But your staff is not a staff in the tradition sense, right? It does not have a magical core?"

"You are a smart one, are you not? You are correct. It is an extension of my own magic core, rather than using another magical core as a focus. Many wizarding spells that you use take the form of a lance of light. This is only possible by focusing your magic through a wand, or similar focus. Incantations, intent, and wand movements all help with the spell, but are unnecessary for a skilled wizard who knows what magic actually feels like. You are very intimate with the magic around you, but I wonder if you are actually more familiar with druidic and shamanistic magic more so than your traditional wizarding magic. It is hard to explain it to you, but perhaps you know better than most."

Harry waited for the Shaman continue, holding his questions for later. The Shaman could be very insightful at times.

"As I've said numerous times by now, there are many magical effects that can be duplicated through all the various disciplines. The thing that separates wizardry from the rest is that it follows a set of rules within the bigger picture. Everyone who uses a magical focus is chained down by the same set of rules. That is why every time you give a specific incantation you will get the same effect every time, but maybe with varying degrees of power. With the Old Magics though, there are no rules or limits as you very well know. Alas, these self imposed limits on our magic could be the death of us all."

"I think I follow, but I have a question."

"Of course."

"You said there are no rules with the old magic… what about shamanism? It does not follow either."

"Shamanism is like druidism in the sense that it is neither the old magics, nor wanded wizardry. Druidism and Shamanism are both 'wandless' magics- to say it crudely in terms of your homeland. There are rules of nature that our magic still must follow, but maybe not as many as you are used too. Some people may say they are simply the method in which you harness and use magic, and they are partially correct. Tell me some of the rules of wizardry that you are familiar with."

"Well, you cannot bring someone back to life once they have died. And you cannot conjure love…"

"I cannot create love either, but to someone who breaches the spirit realm on a daily basis, the first is possible with both shamanism and Old Magic."

Harry's eyes bugged out.

"I cannot just resurrect someone from beyond at no cost however. The cost of such a piece of magic is obvious."

"Sacrifice?"

"Not just any sacrifice. An equal sacrifice. In terms of magic at least."

"What about those without magic? If they have no magical power then you would not have to sacrifice anyone, right?"

"No. I would have to sacrifice someone who also has no magical power."

"Oh…"

"And let me say this. It does not have to be a willing sacrifice either."

Harry gulped nervously.

"Being a shaman is a great responsibility. To mess around with such things as life and death is no simple thing. It is always easier to destroy than to create- You would do well to remember that. There are many aspects of being a shaman you will probably be uncomfortable with, but you only get out of it what you are willing to put in. There is always a price to messing around with magics that span outside of our physical realm. You would be best off to not think about resurrection at all. It will take a part of you with it."

Harry sat still for a few minutes, absorbing the information. "What is necromancy then?"

"Necromancy is not its own discipline, but rather just a collection of techniques taken from the others. It is more of an occupation rather than a school of magic, like a blacksmith."

"What of the rituals then, and blood magic?"

The shaman sighed. "I've said it time and time again and it still holds true. There are many aspects of magic that remain unchanged across disciplines. There are many ways to do many of the same things- such is the nature of magic. Rituals, runes, potions… there are no restrictions on them other than specifics usages. I can create potions like they teach at that school you told me about, and I am not a wizard. Blood magic is simply magic that requires blood as an ingredient. I do not know why it has its own category as much of it is just a mix of charms, rituals, and runes anyway. Not all magic is created equal though. Some are stronger than others, just as some acts are stronger than other. Using one's own blood for magic is an act in all itself, and has very strong results. It is because your blood contains your life essence, and you are essentially sacrificing a part of yourself, both physically and magically. I am hardly an expert in your kind's ways though and how they create barriers between magic when no barriers are needed."

"How exactly do you know so much about wizardry anyways?"

"The spirits talk to me. One day they may talk to you also, but you have to prove yourself to them. I have also explored the world quite a bit and met many of your kind before."

"And how do I do that? Talk to the spirits that is, do I have to sacrifice something?" Harry sighed.

"First we keep practicing the basics, and when you are ready, I will prepare you for your proving quest. Now, if you have no more questions about your own kind rather than mine, let's continue with your shaping."

* * *

Harry's lessons consisted of the shaman chucking many spells at Harry while 'teleporting' around. Harry knew well enough that the shaman couldn't apparate, but apparently he had a different trick up his sleeve. Jordan said he simply hid himself in the folds of magic like he did his staff, and similarly could not teach it to Harry.

To Harry though, it seemed like the magic would simply leap at him from different directions, seemingly at random. It kept him on his toes, that's for sure. The shaman was using basic generic attacking spells; knockbacks, water jets and fireballs. Nothing that was fatal. Jordan assured Harry that his fireball would 'feel' very similar to a wizarding fire spell, not exactly the same, but enough for Harry to know what to expect.

The shaman was also using his staff to hurl the spells at Harry. When asked, the Shaman simply said that it was more of a mental help than a physical thing, and that it helped him aim also. Jordan's memorable quote was something along the lines of "Often times, our only limitations are the ones we set for ourselves subconsciously." It is one of those recurring ideas that Harry has heard before.

Harry took that to heart as it is very sound advice when dealing with magic. Similarly, self-confidence is also very important in magic, and Harry can remember back to first year in Hogwarts where Hermione could not get her broom to work, and Neville struggled with basic spells. He though he was nearly a squib and his magic reacted as such.

It is thoughts like these that Harry slowly started to understand the small but important quirks in magic, the ones that have remain unchanged even from the Old Days and are just as applicable as 5000 years ago and 1000 years in the future.

* * *

Eventually Harry's lessons got slightly more dangerous. Jordan would send lightning bolts or ice shards at Harry occasionally. The goal was multipurpose. Harry was learning what the magic felt like so he would eventually be able to control them himself, and by knowing what lightning magic feels like, he could replicate it for his own purpose.

Also, his original purpose was expanded upon. He predicted where spells were going to come from, and either move, counter the spell, or stop the spell altogether by diverting the magic from forming the spell in the first place. The latter of which was terribly difficult under ideal conditions, and the shaman simply told him patience and practice is the key and not to get his hopes up.

Harry was simply countering the spells, but not in the direct sense. He was fighting fire with fire, water with water, using his wand. It was a matching exercise to show that he correctly identified the spell coming at him. If he messed up, well, then he would probably get hurt; hurling water at lightning was not a smart idea after all.

After several weeks of training like this, Jordan decided that Harry was ready to actually start learning to control the magic himself, from start to finish.

Harry's first attempt at molding and shaping the magic around him to create something substantial was quite explosive. The shaman was the one who always manipulating the magic, so when it was finally Harry's turn, he was not sure how much willpower to put into it. Harry simply followed the universal mantra 'Bigger is Better' and poured all he had into it.

The results were not pretty. Harry was quite attuned to the magic around him, through both of his trainings, and when he was given the go ahead, he forcefully compacted the magic into a dense ball. The ball of raw magic was so dense that you could almost see it in reality, and when he desired the magic to form into a ball of fire, the magic simply exploded outward in an apocalyptic display of fury.

Both Jordan and Harry were blown of their feet and had much of their hair singed off. Steam evaporated off the invisible lake and scalded them in the process. Luckily the hut managed to remain intact, but small fires appeared all over the place.

The shaman quickly got up and was about to take control of the situation when Harry put his hand on his shoulder and said. "This is my mess, I will clean this up."

Jordan nodded his head and carefully watched Harry go through his second attempt at magical manipulation.

Harry closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. While he could not feel the fires directly, he could feel the residual magic that caused it. He could manipulate that magic to cause the fire to spread very fast, as it is easier to manipulate fire if you have some to start with, but he was simply locating them as if it was an exercise.

He briefly mused with overpowering the magic again, except making it water this time, but decided that he needed to work on control. Last time he forced all the magic he could into a tight ball, and then it exploded outwards. He now knew that he need not spend so much time concentrating the magic as the area was very saturated with magic as is.

Harry simply selected a section of the magic around him and asked it to be form into water to put out the fires. The magic formed into a small raincloud, and Harry then coaxed it over one of the fires which it promptly put out with its steady rain. Harry directed it over to the next fire, but it seemed to know what he wanted already and it went fire to fire on its own whim.

After a few minutes all the fires were out and the Shaman asked a question.

"Did you tell the magic to form into rainclouds?"

"No. I simply wanted water to put the fires out."

"I see. You have to clarify better. Sometimes, magic gets a mind of its own and likes to be clever. It was, however, quite effective."

* * *

Harry has gotten the hang of the 'basics'- water, fire, lighting, even snow and wind, but there was so many more possibilities out there, and not all related to the elements either. The shaman showed that he had enough control to make boiling snow and freezing fire, and a limited ability similar to druids to control nature. They also had an aptitude for healing magic, but he had yet to have any practice with it. Harry had only seen various physical herbal poultices and compound and the like.

On the surface it seemed like there was not too much that shamanism could do, but when Harry sat down to think about it, there was not much a shaman could not do. Even spells like the (ancient) Fidelus charm could be cast without using a wand and simply using runes instead. Runes are not limited to wizards, and as such a shaman can use them. Still, the spells with visible light effects were very hard to replicate. Even spells such as leg locking charm and tongue tying are nigh on impossible to cast relying on shamanism alone. Harry has been told a countless amount of times that the magic was very raw and primal and lacked the finesse of a wand. It was very easy to kill with a lightning bolt, but to get the magic to animate a knife to chop your food would be very difficult. Many of the wizarding spells that Harry knows are also from a more modern time, namely that of 1990's. There are quite a lot of spells that seem out of place in this time and have no real purpose.

Harry did not really have to worry about it though, as he had access to both forms of magic. He wondered how the Shaman could live without a wand, but then he had to remember that the man has lived without a wand for 5000 years, since before the Bronze Age and Egyptian Pyramids. They had to get by with simple tools, and shamanism was much the same way. It is possible to do nearly anything that is required of the time period, but if necessary they could use massive workarounds or some bizarre spiritual calling rite to fulfill the most elaborate needs.

That was one thing that he was not used to yet- the idea that spirits were behind everything he did. He was willing to accept the idea, but it was still strange seeing the rainclouds act on their own will and the fire sprite that appeared out of the fire pit. Harry often pondered the question of whether it was just the magic or if it was a higher power and Jordan would often have to remind him to stop looking so deeply into the matter. Harry grew up in the muggle world without knowing about magic, and even after all this time magic occasionally seemed awe-inspiring, and some things were just hard to believe regardless. It was purely a mental block, but if he could overcome that one small step, then perhaps he will gain the unification that he seeks. It was like trying to become fluent in a specific dialect of a foreign language. If you did not grown up learning it, then it would be a lot harder to learn later when you are older.

Harry was busy with his inner soul-searching for the better part of the day. Jordan saw this, and knowing what Harry was distracted with, he decided to change up the routine a bit.

Jordan starting collecting the necessary supplies for one of the non-violent magics that a skilled shaman can do. He needed a shallow basin, pure water, and something to sacrifice. The sacrifice had to be a specific item also. In this case, he needed lyrium dust. Lyrium dust can be extracted from crystallized raw magic residue. The raw magic did not have to be from any specific area though, so that was a small relief.

Jordan saw that Harry was still meditating, so he decided to just do it without Harry watching. Crystallizing magic was not terribly difficult in theory, but in essence he was filtering the magical properties out of something magical. It is quite easy to mess around with the raw magic in the air, but the magic also exists in solids and liquids. In order to get crystallized magic, it had to be extracted from something other than air. It needed a base, and air was not good enough.

The solution was quite simple. Jordan simply took a bucket and filled it up from the invisible lake; the water was magical in nature as it was perpetually perfectly clear no matter what went into it, be it fish waste or minerals.

Jordan just used his standard shamanistic magic manipulation and sucked the magic right out of the bucket of water. The crystallizing process was not complicated. Instead of directly manipulating the magic he extracted into a crystalline structure, he used the other ambient magic around him to crystallize it instead. It was to preserve the original magic.

The resulting crystallized magic fell onto the ground. It looked like any other raw gemstone, except it was completely colorless, and had an unnatural sparkle to it. The water that he extracted it from was now normal blue colored water due to the magic being ripped out of it. The crystallized magic itself was inert. Using magic on the crystal would have no effect. The very nature of the substance though made it a very potent ingredient although it was essentially mundane in most uses. It was one of those odd things in life that just define logic.

Grinding the crystal up into dust was not especially hard. The lyrium crystal was not a hard material compared to gemstones like diamond or stone like granite. The tried and true method of taking larger rock and smashing the smaller rock would work adequately in this situation. He took the resulting dust and stored it in a pouch. There was not much, only a couple of pinches.

He brought the bowl and settled it in front of the oblivious Harry. Jordan then grabbed his staff and knocked Harry on the head with it.

"Ow!" Harry exclaimed as he rubbed his head. "What was that for?"

"I was trying to get your attention"

"Well now you have it." Harry replied as he started examining the large pan-like bowl in front of him. It was nearly a meter in diameter and only a few inches deep.

"I decided we shall take a break from the monotony of you attempting to control the elements around you."

"And that is where this bowl comes in? Is there anything special about it?"

"It is made out of normal material, but I only use it for one purpose, and that is scrying."

"And this… scrying is what you are going to be showing me today?"

"Correct. The process is fairly simple, but you will need better control over your magic before you get the hang of it. I will guide your magic through the process though."

"Ok."

"The ingredients are simple. First you need pure water for the scrying bowl. This is done by converting raw magic into it like you have been practicing. The next step requires something from you; a memory. Not just any memory, but one of significance, one at the forefront of your memory and one that you feel connected too."

"How exactly do I extract the memory? I have seen it done with a wand before but I know not how to do that."

"It is no different than asking the magic around you to create a cloud. Simply ask the magic to perform. I find it helps if you place your fingers to your head. Symbolism always helps. You must be concentrating on the memory when you invoke the magic around you. It may be tough trying to perform both at the same time, but that is what practice is for."

Harry steepled his hands against his temple and concentrated on a memory. It took him a few seconds to realize what memory tended to pop to the front of his mind the most.

Jordan was standing behind him and had a hand placed between Harry's shoulder blades. After a few seconds Harry pulled his hands away from his temples and a silver substance could be seen floating in between his fingers.

"Good. Now put it in the bowl, but be careful not to touch the water." Jordan said as the bowl slowly filled up with water from the air.

Once the memory was in the bowl the shaman took out the pouch of lyrium dust.

The shaman sprinkled the dust into the basin with the water and memory already mixing.

"It will take a few minutes for the image to come through."

"What was that dust? It looked like floo powder." Harry asked.

"This is called lyrium dust. Floo powder is similar to it. It all depends on how it is extracted. Floo powder also has other ingredients in it but I do not know the specifics. I will show you how to extract this eventually. For now, I show you how to scry. Ah, the picture is coming through."

They watched the liquid slowly become still and an image could be seen.

"Why am I not surprised that your most prominent memory is of a girl?" Jordan asked amused. "Silly humans…"

Harry visibly blushed. He did not choose that particular memory on purpose, but it did keep popping to the forefront of his mind.

The moving image in the scrying bowl was that of Rowena Ravenclaw. It is odd that she has wormed her way into Harry's mind. They only worked together for one year, and that was several years ago now, and then they shared a single spur of the moment kiss before he started on this journey. His interactions with her have been very sporadic and seemingly random. There was that one date before he even started teaching that he had nearly forgotten about as it did not mean much at the time.

At first the scrying bowl was focused on her face. Her hair was tied behind her back in a ponytail, but a few loose strands kept falling into her face. She would then either blow them off to the side or tuck them behind her ear. It kept happening every few minutes and it was quite adorable to watch in Harry's opinion.

They also booth noticed the soot on her face; the sign that she was obviously working hard on some project of hers.

"This isn't my memory." Harry stated plainly.

"Of course. Your memory serves as a guide to the target. This is what she is currently doing at this very moment."

"Oh." Harry replied dumbstruck. "So she could have just been sleeping… or even taking a bath?"

The shaman chuckled. "It was a possibility. Are you disappointed?"

"N-no!" Harry stammered.

Jordan guffawed in response. It was quite odd to see his apprentice so flustered.

The scrying zoomed out to show more of the scene. There was a lot of smoke and fire so it was hard to see much of anything. They were able to make out that she was pouring metal into something but that was it. The scrying focused back onto Rowena instead of the smoky room.

"Hmm that's odd." Harry said.

"What?"

"Despite all the soot on her face… she looks younger."

"Oh? Do explain."

"Well the last time I saw her she looked much the same as the first time I saw her which was about 8 years before that. She was 25 or so the day I first met her, so she would be someone in the mid 30's right about now. The thing is, she looks even younger than the first time I met her. I thought it was odd that that in the 8 year gap from the first time I saw her and the last, she did not look like she aged at all. But now she definitely looks younger."

Jordan cut Harry off before he could continue rambling any more. "Fascinating. Who exactly is this?"

"Rowena Ravenclaw."

"Hmm." The brought his hand up and started stroking his beard in a sign of contemplation. "Curious. Most curious."

Harry sighed. "What is curious?"

"Is it not strange that you gain 3 years of age, and she loses 3 years of age?"

"Uh…"

"I know not what it means but somehow your magic is affecting her. Do you remember any strange moments with your magic involving her?"

Harry thought back on his previous meetings with her. "The very first time I met. When I took her hand, my magic felt as if I just picked up my wand after a long time of not using it."

"And what exactly is that feeling, seeing how I cannot use a wand?"

"Oh sorry. It just feels… right. Like everything in the world is going to be okay because you just regained a part of yourself."

"How cute." The shaman drawled. "I know nothing of what this means, but it seems your magic has taken a liking to this Rowena Ravenclaw. The question is whether or not she is aware of this."

"Probably. She is probably researching about it right now as we speak. I would bet that whatever she was doing in that scrying had something to do with it."

"You seem quite confidant in that. Give me a minute, I just want to scan your aura to see if it is life threatening."

The shaman sat down in front of Harry and raised both of his hands in front of him. "Stay still and do not speak."

They sat like that for about 15 minutes.

"Ah." The shaman said, breaking the silence. "Well I can say for sure it is a matter of magic, and not the soul."

"I take it that is a good sign?"

"Of course. It was hard to trace, seeing as she is very far away, but I found your magic flowing all the way to her, and hers to you."

"And?" Harry asked eagerly.

"All I know is what I felt, and not what it means. Your magic and her magic feel the same. Think of it like footprints. Every time you use a spell, you leave your own distinct mark on it."

"Yeah, that is called a magical signature."

The shaman shrugged his shoulders. "I have seen people with similar 'signatures' as you put it, before, but the two of yours are very similar, almost identical. If the two of you cast the same spell right next to each other I would have a hard time telling the casters apart. There is a very slight difference between them, but the difference is so minute as to be negligible."

Harry frowned. "That doesn't explain why she de-aged."

"No, quite right. With the amount of magic users in the world there are bound to be quite a few with similar signatures. The mystery is why your magic is actively seeking hers out."

"Do you think it has anything to do with the Hallows?"

"At least in part. The question is how and why? You aged three years, and for some reason the old magics sought fit to drain her of years to counterbalance your gaining of years, but that does not seem to fit with the workings of your particular artifacts. Making you age should have been enough to counter the fact that you were no longer under the influence of them temporarily. Sometimes the old magics work in very bizarre ways. I will need to think about this more but I simply do not know why this happened. All we have is the evidence but we need a motive and conclusion."

Harry continued sitting in his spot next to the lake while the shaman cleaned up. It seemed as if another introspective silence was in order. The main question going through his head was that Rowena's habit of not aging seemed to be some side effect of him being immortal. The question was how far did it go and why? Is it just superficial or is Rowena also have the curse of living forever, simply because they have similar magical signatures?

To Harry, it seemed that for such an insignificance of having similar magical signatures that sharing something like immortality seemed outright impossible. One would think that it would start with something smaller and less obtrusive to the world at large. Having the same magical signature meant that she could use his wand to full potential, or even pass through wards that were keyed into himself. There were a lot of possibilities but immortality definitely seemed like a very large leap. If there was one thing he knew about Rowena though, she would figure it out long before he did. He just wondered when the next time he would see her is. There were too many questions with no way to solve them.

* * *

"So are you ever going to tell me what that artifact of yours does?" Harry asked.

"Sometimes a rock is just that- a rock"

"So is that just a rock?"

"No."

Harry sighed. They could theorize all they want about his magical connection with Rowena, but without the two of them standing side by side they were not going to find an answer. And Jordan downright said no to travelling all the way to England.

Harry kept getting distracted and his training was going at a snail's pace as a result. That didn't stop them from continuing though; there were many areas of shamanism for Harry to learn after all. That is why Jordan left the camp after their brief banter and went into the mountainside forest.

The shaman was gone for nearly an hour, but when he returned he was carrying an animal with him.

The animal was six-legged and had purple fur. It looked like a mix of a bear and a raccoon, but it had horn similar to that of a unicorn.

It was also injured. Pretty badly too if the blood soaking the shaman was any indication.

Harry's attention immedietly snapped to the animal. It was very cute looking and was about the same size as a dog. Once you got passed the six legs of course.

"I am going to show you some effective healing magics today."

"Ok… but what in the blazes is that thing exactly? And don't tell me you hurt that creature just for this lesson?"

"Of course not silly boy." Jordan scolded. "I found this already wounded. And for your information, this is a snorkack.

Harry's mind froze. "A… snorkack, you said?"

"Yup." Jordan replied cheerfully, not knowing that he just shattered a part of Harry's youth. "What's wrong?"

"They're… they're real?"

"Why wouldn't they be?"

"I… I just... Never mind."

"Now that we cleared that up." Jordan said sarcastically. "Copy what I do."

The shaman took two fingers and started making a spiral motion with them in the air. After a few seconds you could see spiral of magic glint in the air. He then let the magic drop onto injured leg of the snorkack.

The results were immediate. The wound stopped bleeding completely and started to knit itself.

Harry realized that the shaman was waiting for him to finish it. He took his two fingers and traced a similar pattern through the air, while asking the spirits to give him magic to heal the snorkack's legs.

Surprisingly enough, Harry managed a similar result to the shaman's on the first try. The silvery spiral was similar to a memory in appearance and ductility. He gentle prodded the magic to be absorbed into the animal's skin. He watched as the cuts slowly healed themselves and the leg itself pop back into shape.

"Good. Apparently you are not completely hopeless. I will finish the lingering pain and bruises."

Harry took the compliment in stride. Maybe he really was getting the hang of using the shamanistic approach to magic.

* * *

"I feel the time has come for you to partake on the Rite of Initiation."

Harry stood slightly straighter at hearing these words. This was the moment of truth and he was proud of actually making it to this point. Hard work and determination, along with belief in yourself and magic goes a long way.

"If you think your training was hard, think again." Jordan laughed. "The real experience starts now. I cannot help you as this is your test, and you will be travelling alone."

Harry slightly faltered at the news, but he was anxious for a chance to prove himself. He felt that he has learned enough of the basics and is competent enough to pass the initiation so he can learn more advanced techniques.

"Part of your test is to collect the ingredients for the Rite of Initiation itself. You will be making heavy use of the crystallization techniques I have shown you. I will need 7 crystallized substances. I suggest memorizing this list very carefully. They are as follows; water, fire, life, light, darkness, death, and time. Each of these must be harvested from specific places, but there is more than one place for each. It is up to you to find these places. Places such as where water is the purest, fire is the hottest… "

"Ha ha … ha?"

Jordan just stared at him.

"Oh. You are serious. Ok. when shall I go on this adventure?"

"Every shaman since the beginning of time has gone through this initiation. You can leave when you are ready. I suspect it will take you several months at least to gather the ingredients, but I will be waiting here when you return. If you return…"

Harry immedietly collected his meager collection of possessions that he didn't carry with himself at all times. He pulled out his sword out of his bag and strapped it to his waist. Now that he would be travelling alone, he wanted every advantage he could get.

He also started going down the list of items he needed a get and started thinking of where he could get them. The source is where the items are the most purest... Where is death the most pure? Where is life the most pure? Where is fire the most pure? How to you crystallize something like light anyways?

He had a few ideas already. Fire was at its purest when it is coldest. He was pretty sure there are volcanoes in Antarctica, so that is where he would head first. First ideas are always the best ones in his experience. That doesn't mean he was right though.

* * *

Harry thanked spirits that his broom was working perfectly. He chalked up the previous malfunctions to something Jordan did for his previous 'tests'. It was his quickest method of transportation, aside from apparation and portkeys. The other two are of no use as you need to know where your destination is located, which he does not.

Despite being a Gryffindor at heart, he still knew how important a plan is. Having a plan was always better than not having a plan. Sure, the quality of the plan was questionable, but at least he had something to start with.

Going to Antarctica to crystallize fire from the heart of Mount Erebus was not going to be a walk in the park.

He would fly straight south on his broom until he encountered the large land mass. Mount Erebus was the only volcano he knew of on the place, but it was more likely he would find some other one first as he didn't know where it was. All he needed though was an active volcano, he would settle for any.

There was one slight problem; the ocean. Flying a broom over the ocean would be borderline suicidal. There was nowhere to stop for rest.

Brand new, his firebolt could pull off 200 miles an hour in a straight line. The broom was now over 10 years old. While the weave of flight charms that are on the broom are very strong, there is still going to be some weakening. He estimated that his broom was still good for 175 miles an hour. He didn't use it all that much; he was hardly a professional Quidditch player, so most of the damage was simply from the passage of time rather than use.

He also didn't fancy flying through a storm while over water. The distance over the water was potentially several thousand miles. In theory he could do that without having to stop if he went without sleep for a few days. It was risky but he seriously thought about what he was actually doing and what the shaman had told him. "If you return…" was what the shaman said.

Harry was not under a timed schedule, but he did have to survive. He decided that he would fly by broom down to the tip of Africa, and then build a boat to sail across the ocean.

Flying down to the tip of Africa went smoothly. It was easy enough to just fly to the ground when you need to eat and rest. Harry was quite adept at surviving in this type of environment as he has done so for many months already.

Building a boat, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He had never been in a boat, let alone the know-how to build one.

He had the luxury of magic however, and multiple types of magic. His plan was to make sure the boat was strong enough to stay together without magic. Of course he would be carving the trees using magic, and using waterproofing charms in abundance. He thought about just transfiguring a boat, but he didn't fancy the possibility of it failing halfway out to sea in freezing waters. Regardless of the Elder Wand's power, nature has always been the most dominant force in the universe. Not to mention he did not know permanency runes or enchantments strong enough to keep a transfigured boat from reverting back to its original materials.

There was no way that Harry could build anything resembling a galleon or brigantine, so he had to settle for something simpler in the form of a catamaran. Granted it would be a large catamaran, so he could hopefully fare the southern ocean successfully.

When he went into the forest to collect the necessary materials, it was then he realized how truly inadequate his wand magic was. He did not have access to any spell tomes, and he only had 6 formal years of education along with one teaching his best subject. His spell repertoire was severely lacking.

He had to make do with what he did know, there was no point is mucking about. A good disposition is always important for one's self confidence.

Finding a tree the size he wanted was no problem. If needed, he could always use his druidic magic to grow it. Cutting it down was the problem. He only knew two cutting spells. 'Diffindo' could cut cloth and probably wood up to half an inch thick. 'Sectumsempra' is the equivalent of a sword slash for a person of average magical power. He didn't know any specific wood cutting or sawing spells so he would have to make do with the _sectumsempra_. The other choice would be an explosion hex but he didn't fancy having splinters flying at high speeds.

Harry grasped the familiar handle of the Deathstick and cast a nonverbal _sectumsempra_ at the tree. It made a cut about 5 inches deep, but the tree was about 5 feet in diameter.

Realizing that nonverbal was not going to cut, he did not hold back as he made a vicious slash with his wand and yelled out "Sectumsempra!" The spell cut cleanly through the tree, and partially cut into the next tree behind it 15 feet away.

Now he just had had to dodge the falling tree, which was coming down conveniently in his direction. Harry ran about 10 feet before he remembered he was a wizard and simply apparated to a spot about 150 feet away, safe from the falling tree. He levitated the fallen tree down near the edge of the water and went back into the forest to get chop down a few similar sized trees. Trimming the branches off was child's-play, but he also brought them back to the shore. They could have a use.

Harry used the larger two of the trees to be the main length of the catamaran. He would lay planks on top for the base and then create a post for a sail.

He took two other logs and placed them on either side of the first two logs. They would be outriggers for even more stability. He used his cutting spell to trim the front of the logs into pencil-points.

Harry's next more was to grow vines out of the ground to use as rope. It only took a few minutes to collect what he thought he needed.

The branches he trimmed off earlier were now to be used to connect the outrigger logs to the main logs. His lashing skills were minimal, but he knew how to tie a knot. Magic is a helpful tool to use in conjunction with his own shortcomings. With all his logs tied together, it was time to create the decking.

His first thought was to cut a large tree up into planks, but then he realized how difficult such a thing would be. Harry would just lash many smaller branches of similar diameter.

Luckily there were enough branches from the 4 trees he cut down that he would not have to rob other living trees for more.

The lashing process was tedious and taking several days to finish, but in the end it would be worth it. He had to keep reminding himself that there was no time limit. It was quite refreshing to be able to work at his own pace. His safety was in no one's hands but his own. There was no teachers lecturing him, friends harping on him, stingy druid enclaves, or older than dirt shamans taking the mickey out of him at every opportunity. It was just him and his task.

His work was something he could be proud of, even if no one else would ever see it. With the deck complete, he had to make a mast and rigging for a sail, and a shelter for himself.

The mast had to be perfectly straight in his mind. That was hard to find in a natural tree, so he simply grew one on the spot. He mounted the straight mast on a block of wood he connected to the deck. He then made a cross-member for the mast. He decided on a square sail.

He also made sure to attack a rudder to the back of the boat for steering. He was not sure if he would actually need it.

His shelter was a simple affair; just a wooden hut and very plain.

Once everything was built to his satisfaction, Harry started on his second to last task. He had to make sure his boat would not fall apart during the trip. His first idea was a pretty good one.

He grew another large coniferous tree out of the ground and forced it to produce resin in overdrive. The resin poured out of the tree so Harry scooped it up by the handful and smeared it all over the boat. It would help glue the lashing and wood together, and also help with waterproofing. After he was done with the resin he immedietly followed up with a series of strengthening charms and waterproofing magic. He knew ways to make something deflect water in all three areas of magic that he knew.

His last task was probably the hardest, but most important; food and water. He did not know how much he need, and he did not want to overhunt. Worse comes to worse, he could attempt to fish.

Harry was quite adept as preserving the meat he caught and preparing it. Living with the shaman it was one of the first things he was taught, but he had a lot of exposure to it during his druidic training also. Similarly with the various fruits and vegetables he collected from the wild. He collected and preserved them in abundance.

His final order of business was to conjure some proper clothing for himself. Walking into the arctic condition with nothing but a nundu pelt and light cloth clothes was not his cup of tea. The heavy modern fur jacket he conjured would probably suffice, but he would always keep warming charms at the forefront of his mind. In addition, fire was something he had sufficient control over with shamanism to summon forth with a little effort.

Harry finally decided he was ready and he used his wand to move his raft into the water. He carefully climbed aboard and waiting a few seconds to realize that he was actually floating with little chance of sinking at the moment.

The tide slowly pulled the boat out into the sea. The waters were calm and there were no clouds in the sky and very little wind. That would not stop him though. He had magic.

Right away he worked up the ambient magic into a flurry of wind. The conjured sail filled up with wind right away and propelled the catamaran forward.

Not missing a beat, he also started to gain a hold on the surface water. He coaxed the magic around him to form into a current to suck his raft southwards.

The effect was immediate and he had to hold onto the housing to stabilize himself. He was going faster than any handmade wooden raft should be allowed to go.

The outriggers worked like a charm and his craft was very stable. The raft skimmed over the surface and the overall trip was quite pleasant. With luck, he would not encounter any choppy weather.

* * *

Harry arrived on the shore of Antarctica with little fanfare. He made pretty good time sailing across the waters. The storms he encountered were no problem with the use of magic. While he had no power over large storms, he could still minimize the localized damage. In fact, he even converted some of the storms own power to help him travel even faster,

He managed to keep warm and fed during trip, as well as dry, the latter of them being the most essential.

He had to carefully navigate the last few miles to the shoreline to avoid icebergs and other floating ice; a feat not terribly difficult with magic. The raft was currently beached on the shores of the main island.

It slowly dawned on him that he was the first human to ever set foot on the continent. It would be hundreds of years before whalers would even lay eyes on this continent, let alone set foot on it.

Harry methodically pulled his broom out his bag. His gloves were thick and it was somewhat difficult to get a good grip on it. Such a trivial matter would not deter him as he set off on the firebolt searching for an active volcano.

He would search for a volcano for several days. His thoughts would be occupied by an equal amount of daydreaming of Rowena and the odd magical connection, and thinking of possible locations for the other elements. He entertained the idea that he could also find pure elemental water on the continent. That idea was dashed when he realized that all the water was frozen, and that melting it would ruin its pureness.

Harry managed to rule out all the other ingredients other than one; light. There was no nighttime at Antarctica currently. The light reflecting off the snow is nearly blinding. He smeared soot under his eyes to help with the reflection. He decided that light reflecting off the ice near the South Pole would be best, but he would find the volcano first.

Finding a volcano was not as difficult as he thought it would be. Mountains do tend to stick out from the rest of the environment, along with the smoke.

The one he started flying off too was not too far away. Flying was very treacherous though, he had to conjure goggles right away. Snow and ice were blowing constantly, and higher up in the air it was quite nasty. Not to mention cold, so very cold. Temperatures could hit minus 100. Warming charms cast by the Elder Wand were just enough to keep him from not freezing, even with heavy clothes on.

After a day of flying, he realized his gloves were frozen to his broom. He could not pull his wand out to unfreeze it, so he had to rely on shamanistic fire. The land was nowhere near as rich in raw magic as the mountaintop encampment in Africa, but there is always some, and it was enough to thaw his gloves.

When Harry finally got close enough to the mountain he realized that it was actually on an island. That was a good sign as volcanoes create islands. And even better sign was the wisps of smoke he saw bellowing from the top.

It was obvious when he got closer that the volcano was active, but not in an explosive way. There was a lava lake in the crater and that is exactly what he was looking for.

The sight itself was incredible to behold as it was the first active volcano he has ever seen. It was surreal to see such an inferno at the coldest place on earth. Not to mention a whole lake made up of molten material. It was quite overwhelming and such beauty made him feel insignificant to the world. He felt like an ant standing in a herd of elephants.

Harry was not here for sightseeing however, so he set about his task after eating a quick meal. He simply had to crystallize the lava, to forever preserve it in its natural state.

He did not fancy getting any closer to the lava than was necessary. Even from the lip of the cauldron he could feel the intense heat. Luckily the crystallization was something he could do at range. Crystallizing something was just like any of the other shamanistic magic, it just had a certain 'feel' to the magic that he had to harness.

It only took about 5 minutes for the crystallized lava to be of a suitable size and he levitated the stone to himself. The crystal was a fiery color that signified what it was, but remarkably it had no temperature at all, almost as if it was exactly his body temperature.

He pocketed the stone in his bottomless bag and set off back to mainland Antarctica. With one element down and 6 more left, his next stop was somewhere on the ice fields where the sun was brightest.

* * *

Flying to the middle of the continent was very difficult. The wind was obnoxious, as was the cold. If he was a lesser wizard, he would have died ages ago.

His broom was as reliable as ever, although slightly worse for the wear. He did not know exactly what he was looking for, or how he could crystallize light itself, but with magic anything is possible.

Antarctica was beautiful and dangerous at the same time, and it did not take him too long to be fed up with the place. There was snow and ice for as far as the eyes could see, and it was so bright out that often times he would get headaches even with the conjured goggles on.

Thankfully it did not take him too long to get lucky and come across a good opportunity to collect his light sample.

It was a slightly cloudy day and the sun was shining through the clouds. Harry could see the rays of light branching down to the ground and he decided this is what he was looking for.

Knowing that he needed every advantage possible to go through with this, he forced himself to exude confidence. All it took was one over-surge of magic and he was holding a crystal in his hand. The crystal was a perfect sphere yet it still gave off a rainbow reflection.

He pocketed it next to the crystal fire and made his way back to his catamaran. He still needed to collect water, darkness, life, death and time. He had an idea for water, and it involved a lot of sailing as he only had a faint idea where he could find it.

* * *

Harry was currently sailing up the Atlantic. With no knowledge he decided he was near Brazil. He was heading towards the Gulf of Mexico.

It only took him a few hours to thaw out his catamaran when he left Antarctica. He made a few stops along the cost for fresh food and meat, and he ran into one severe storm, but it was nothing worth writing a book about.

Harry has had a lot of time to just relax; it was almost like a vacation. He has also had a lot of time to think about his future. He wanted to see and talk with Rowena but he seriously could not see any possible situation where she would wait for him. It has been several years since that single day where they shared a kiss, and seven years before that where they taught at Hogwarts. He honestly thought that Rowena was probably married by now and with children.

He shifted his thoughts to something more prevalent and that was the 5 elements he still had to capture. His brilliant idea was to capture elemental water from the legendary Fountain of Youth. But sometimes legends are just that; legends.

Harry didn't know why he thought the mythical Fountain was located in the Gulf of Mexico, but he must have heard or read it somewhere. He was well aware that there was no evidence that it had ever been found.

In the end, Harry spent several months combing the waters of south-eastern America and the Bahamas for the fountain and had no luck. He took solace in the fact that many explorers would search for it and never find it.

He decided he was going to give up searching soon, but he decided to go down the southern coast of Central America instead. The decision was made for him when he saw the massive hurricane plow up through the gulf. No amount of magic would make him feel safe in a dangerous storm like that when his boat is essentially just a raft.

Harry skimmed around the storm for about a week before it finally passed him by and hit land. He guided his raft around what appeared to be a peninsula, but he had no idea what future country it would become.

He continued south for many days until the coastline started curving around back north. The weather was nice and he was enjoying swimming and a little bit of fishing. The exotic food he managed to collect from the mainland was a bonus also. He had yet to see any of the locals though, so in that he was lucky.

One day Harry was just lounging on his vessel and enjoying the perfect weather; warm but not too hot and very few clouds, with a very light breeze. He was getting a nice tan when out of nowhere a fog bank rolled on top of him.

In every direction fog slowly crept up on him. He tried to get up out of his prone position but he felt his eyes slowly closing and his body suddenly overcome with exhaustion. He tried extending his magic in a protective cocoon around himself but it was no use. His magic was battered away like a raindrop in a storm.

* * *

Harry woke up an indeterminate amount of time later. His food supply was still fresh and his charms still active so it could not have been more than a few day..

He immedietly noticed his change in environment. His catamaran was currently floating in front of a crescent shaped island. There was a lagoon in the center of it, but the entrance to it was hidden from view by a combination of reef and sandbar.

It was a simply choice to summon up the winds to propel his craft into the lagoon. He was known for blindly charging into an unknown situation on occasion, but who was he to argue if the spirits decided to place him here. It was obviously done for a reason; whether that reason was good or bad was yet to be seen.

He carefully entered the shallow lagoon. The craft did not displace too much water so he had plenty of clearance. He was careful to steer around the sandbar and reef to avoid beaching. They helped prevent waves from entering the lagoon.

The lagoon was of a decent size, maybe a thousand feet across. The water was almost completely stale except from a small ripple that could be seen rippling out from the center.

Harry carefully observed the object occupying the center of the lagoon. It was a large obsidian-like rock about 10 feet high. Water could be seen shooting up about a foot from the top of the stone and cascading down its smooth sides.

Harry steered the boat around the rock and looked for an easy way to climb to the top. The sides were not completely sheer, but the various protrusions were worn smooth and unusable to climb.

He guided the catamaran and docked it next to the stone. He threw a rope around the fountain to stabilize the raft.

Climbing to the top of the 10 foot stone was a simple matter of merely conjuring a wooden ladder and leaning it against the fountain.

He climbed up the ladder and peered at the fountain in front of him. He could come to no other conclusion other than this must be the Fountain of Youth. He wasn't sure what act of magic brought him here, but he was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It took a few seconds his brain to actually catch up to what he was witnessing. The legendary, mythical, _fictional_ Fountain of Youth. The mere idea of it rivals with that of the day he learned that magic is real and Merlin is a real person.

He felt like he should be worshipping the fountain, or using latex gloves and a breathing mask around it. Harry was a very curious boy though, often getting himself in dangerous positions. That being said, he settled for conjuring a cup and taking a large sip of the water.

Harry wasn't sure what he expected. Maybe growing wings, being enveloped in an otherworld light, or maybe feeling like he could conquer the world.

None of that happened though. In fact, nothing happened at all.

Granted, it was the best water that he has ever tasted in his life, and he felt a slight tingling feeling, but beyond that, nothing.

He didn't have to ponder on it for long. He remembered what the legends of the Fountain of Youth said it was supposed to do; make you eternally young. Harry just happened to already be eternally young, so it made sense that it would have no effect on him.

Harry gave a small shrug to no one in particular before conjuring a few vials and filling them up. It felt like he just did something wrong, but when he looked around to see if he was going to be smite down from the heavens, nothing happened. He would equate it to someone pissing in Holy Water and getting away with it.

He was about to climb back down his ladder before he remember he still had to get a crystallized sample. He was half expecting something catastrophic to happen, but the magic worked flawlessly. The crystal turned into a multifaceted oval gem.

He settled back on his boat, contemplating his next move. He had water, fire, and light. He needed life, death, darkness and time. For darkness he thought simply about finding a dark cave, but would have to give some thoughts about a cave that symbolized the idea the best. He was having trouble remembering the names of specific caves but he knew that he did know a few back when he was younger. He would have to think about it or maybe just pick a random old cave.

Life and Death were curious objects to try and crystallize. For life he was thinking about visiting Mesopotamia, the cradle of life, and hoping for the best. Death had several possibilities. He knew that Halloween, All Hallows Eve and Samhain were all days relating to death and the spiritual world. They all just happen to be the same day too; October 31. Supposedly on this day the barriers separating the world of the living and the world of the dead were at their closest or thinnest. He contemplating visiting Stonehenge during that day, but did not fancy returning to England without his training complete.

Harry had a few other ideas though such as visiting the dead sea. Another belief some people have, related to the idea of Samhain, is that on the sites of great battles where many people have died, the spirit world and mortal world become very close. He mused around with the idea of visiting ancient battlefields such as Thermopylae. He felt the idea had merit, but decided in the end he would visit the Ancient Pyramids of Egypt instead. They were built as eternal protectors to the immortal resting places of pharaohs. The pharaohs themselves were supposed to be immortal, at least in part, so it seemed like the ideal place for him to visit, seeing how he himself is actually immortal.

The more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself that visiting the ancient burial sites of the revered godlike pharaohs seemed like the right course of action.

Time was the most curious one. Crystallizing an intangible object is an odd thing in itself, but to crystallize part of the very fabric of the universe was something altogether. His first idea was to visit the ancient city of Atlantis, believed to be lost forever to the sands of time. He threw that course of action out the window after he thought it through. He himself was on a thin leash with Time as it is, and he did not want to face the possibility of getting lost forever in the sands of time if he actually decided to go looking for it. There was no proof that it actually existed either, but then again, there was no proof to say that it didn't exist.

In the end he decided he would have to think about it some more and opted to work on the other ones instead. Egypt and Mesopotamia are close together, so that is where he decided to go first.

* * *

Harry thought about destroying the fountain so no one could ever use it for evil, but decided against it. The spirits of magic had hidden the fountain well enough for many millennia, and they would continue to do so.

Harry did not feel it would be productive to sail across the entire Atlantic Ocean and down the Mediterranean to arrive at Egypt. He focused back to his initial flight into Africa. He flew only a few hundred miles from where he knew Egypt to be.

He visualized the location clearly in his mind. He briefly though he must be crazy to attempt a ten thousand mile apparation. Anything more than a few hundred miles and the danger of splinching yourself went up considerably. For a distance this big, a splinching would probably result in him turning into a fine mist of blood and gore.

But he wasn't Harry Potter for nothing. With a little bit of help, he felt he could accomplish it.

He reached out with all his senses and nearly passed out on the spot when he felt how much magic was inundating the air around him. The Fountain of Youth lagoon was immensely magical. It also probably had muggle repelling charms and that would explain why no muggle had ever found it before.

Harry carefully pulled the magic into his own being, like he did once before. He swirled the magic through his lattice core, coming closer to nature than he had ever done before. He risked the possibility of blowing up, but luck has always been on his side when he needed it most.

The amount of magic at his disposal was immense. It was too much in fact, and the chance of any actual spells backfiring was more than likely. Even being a human with a double-sized magical core along with druidic and shamanistic control over magic, the magic was beyond him, for lack of a better word. The only thing he could do with the magic was release it. The amount of power had only one use; fuel

So that is what he did.

With a massive earth rending sonic boom Harry apparated ten thousand miles to Egypt. He would nearly empty the lagoon with the tidal wave he created, but the water would be sucked back by the temporary vacuum that inhabited his previous location.

While apparation is nearly instantaneous over short distances, over ten thousand miles it took over a minute and a half. That was a minute and a half of being squeezed like a tube and having your stomach loath your very being.

When Harry arrived he immedietly threw up the entire contents of his stomach and promptly passed out in his own muck. But he was alive.

* * *

Harry woke up several hours later and wasted no time in washing himself of his own vomit. He took in his surroundings and noted that he was in one of the camps he made on his initial journey across Africa, so all was well.

He knew the Pyramids were near Cairo, which was situated on a river. Probably the Nile River if he remembered correctly.

His plan to find the city was to fly east following the Mediterranean Sea until he came across the Nile. He dug through his bottomless bag and was relieved to note everything was still intact. He promptly pulled out his broom and took to the sky. His broom was fast enough that he could probably make it in one go without having to stop for rest, but with his body sore from the brutal apparation he opted to not push it and just take two days instead.

With his firebolt he managed to cover the thousand-plus miles in two days. The sun was glaring down at him, but it was something he knew how to counter. The hot and dryness was nothing he hasn't countered before for extended periods of time.

Finding the Pyramids in such a large area was not as hard as he thought it would be. They were the largest landmarks for miles around.

He arrived at the base of the northern most Pyramid. He was naturally wary because he knew Bill Weasley was a cursebreaker that worked on these types of tombs. Bill has told quite a few gruesome stories involving magical traps and other protections on the tombs.

Harry did not have the luxury of being a skilled cursebreaker. In fact he knew nothing about the profession or the spells they used for their job.

He did have one thing that he thought would help him out immensely; his trained ability to sense and feel magic. With that he should be able to feel wards and enchantments and be able to ignore them. That was the plan anyways, but he would be the first to tell you that the best laid plans only last 5 minutes at best.

He walked around the base of the tall pyramid before he came across the entrance. There was nothing on the exterior that hinted at a door, but Harry sensed the charms that were trying to repel him. A normal wizard might have been affected, but Harry was no normal wizard. He simply walked through the wall disguised door. It was similar to the feeling that you got from entering the Hogwarts Express platform at King's Cross.

His senses lit up right away when he entered, but his eyes didn't show anything. He was visualizing axes sweeping out of walls, arrows shooting from hidden nooks, or pitfalls, but he doubt that there were any of those here. There were pressure plates on the ground though, or the magical equivalent. There were also patches of magic on the walls too- traps of some sort. He would need constant vigilance to make it through.

The first thing he did was create a ball of light to see with. Immedietly he noticed a skeleton leaning up against the wall, long dead. He ignored it.

His magic senses echoed down the corridor. He felt two passages that branched off. He also noticed the floor was littered with magic rectangles. He came to the conclusion that they were trap triggers and as long as he didn't hit any of the enchantments, he would not set them off. It was an easy process to walk past them, despite their large numbers. He essentially played hopscotch and successfully reached the first passage without touching the ground traps or the walls.

When he reached the next passage, he saw that it was going to be a lot more problematic. He felt layers of magic going across the whole passage. Most likely hostile charms and enchantments.

This is where Harry's shortcomings as a wizard really come out to haunt him. He knew a few counterspells, sure, but nothing to dispel wards. And there was no spell to simply identify them. As far as he knew, you either get a feel for which is which, akin to survival skills such identifying edible shrubs, or you simply perform the cause and effect test and record the results.

Harry knew what a few wards felt like, but all of them are of the repelling variety that he used while in the shamans care. He tried to get a feel on their hostile nature, but they all felt identical in nature.

All violent.

Harry wasn't about to charge though them without knowing what they would do. That is he conjured a small warthog and sent it through the first ward. The result was a loud squeal and the sound of electricity followed by the smell of cooking bacon.

It was fairly obvious that he did not want that to happen to himself.

He only had a single idea of how to overcome the wards; overpower them. Luckily, magical power was something he had in excess. The question is whether or not he is more powerful than the ancient mages who cast the spells in the first place.

Harry was going to punch through the ancient protections with nothing other than pure, raw magic. He based his idea of nothing other than what his heart told him would work, but in his mind it made sense that a ward would not be tripped by raw magic as long as it was not turned into an actual spell.

The ability to feel and control magic was what he enjoyed about shamanism the most. Druidism is similar, but this was so much more. The survival skills, and the region oriented healing magic and poultices was nice, but being connected with _nature_ was something he wouldn't trade for the world.

Still, there were elements of being a wizard that were just superior to anything he could do with raw magic. With a wand you had many hundreds of different spells for nearly any occasion. You can break specific bones, light their blood on fire, or simply stun them, there are many choices. It was more refined. But sometimes you do not need refined magic- you just need a battering ram.

That is why he formed the raw magic around him into a cone shape. He slowly slid the magic into the volatile ward and he gave a sigh of relief when it did not kill him right away. Harry spread his magic into the ward until he had an arch-like hole for him to walk through. When he was on the other side, he slowly withdrew his magic and the ward closed up as if it had never been breached.

It took him a few hours to reach the end of the passage way. Ward-breaching with his method was not something he fancied rushing.

The passage opened up into a larger passage that angled up at 45 degrees. At first glance it looked like it was a set of stairs that led up into the pyramid. Harry knew he had to be very cautious when going up the stairs. He was sure that his goal was somewhere past the obstacle, but it was the obstacle itself he had to worry about.

He could not sense any magic in the passage at all. His eyes told him a different story. The walls were covered in painted hieroglyphics. He was probably the first person to lay eyes on them since the pyramid was sealed thousands of years ago.

The whole time he was looking at the walls he was on the lookout out for traps. No magic traps in his mind meant that there would be a lot of mechanical ones. He was examining an Anubis figure when he noticed there was a hole where the eyes were supposed to be.

Harry guided his light sphere closer to wall and saw the telltale glint of metal from within the hole. It was an arrow trap or something akin to it. Harry took a step back down the passage and crouched to the ground to examine the floor.

He was looking for the trigger to the mechanism. The floor had no discernable pattern to it. It was a random series of motifs that did not make sense to him. He traced a line down from the trap and started looking for anything that stood out. He got lucky when he saw that there was a small oval that seemed slightly out of place from the rest of the design.

Harry thought about tripping the trap, but there was no way to know exactly what it triggered. There could be more than one arrow, or he could collapse the whole passage onto himself.

He did not have the patience to muck about with sneaking around all the traps, so he did what he did best.

He pulled his trusty firebolt out of the broom and mounted it. He slowly glided his way up the ramp while taking great caution to not to touch any of the stone.

Harry continued flying into the next room while at the same feeling for any trace of magic. His senses went haywire and brought his attention immedietly to the large ornate sarcophagus perched in the center of the room.

As soon as he completely entered the room he heard the sound of stone grinding.

He turned around immedietly to see a large slab close off the path he just came from. He saw no other physical way out.

Harry examined the room very carefully. He memorized all the hieroglyphics as he might be the last person to ever set foot in this room. He saw none of the cleverly hidden traps that adorned the previous room. He felt no magic other than the massive concentration from the middle of the room.

Harry turned around and faced the object in question and started inspecting it. The scale of the situation was having its effect on him. It was not quite on the scale of the Fountain of Youth, but being the first to explore the pyramid was still something.

It was then he realized that he could get two crystallized elements here; Death and Darkness.

Harry quickly extinguished his light.

The room became deathly still and stale, drenched in complete blackness. The darkness felt like the type that would be around for eternity, and the likelihood of that is quite possible.

Harry pooled his magic around himself and forced some of the darkness to congeal into a tangible substance. He knew Hermione would be apoplectic at such blatant defiance of all things magical, but Harry believed that it was possible for it to work, so his magic complied.

Harry blinding reached his hands out and clasped onto a chunk of crystal. He quickly stuffed the impossibly solid darkness into his bottomless bag, next to the others.

Capturing death was only marginally harder. As with the previous wards, he could snake raw magic past them without consequences. Death had a habit of lingering, and Harry just had a feeling that the sarcophagus was full with death. If he could turn darkness into something substantial, then why couldn't he with death?

That was his line of thought as he focused the magic to conform to his bidding. The magic resisted slightly at first, but Harry coaxed it along until he was holding a nondescript chunk of stone in his hand. He pocketed it next to the others as well.

With those two elements out of the way, he only had two more left. He wondered if he could also harness time from this place. He contemplated it for a few seconds before he decided it would not work. If the pharaoh was timeless, then he would be alive. And seeing as how he just got his crystallized death, he had no use for the dead guy. Dead guys are not immortal, they are simply dead. Their spirits and souls are another matter, but they are another plane of existence altogether and play by different rules that are of no concern to him.

Harry's next stop was Mesopotamia. The closed walls were of no significance to him because he simply apparated to outside. He grabbed his broom and zipped off east. It was worth noting that he was able to apparate to outside the pyramid, but not back in.

* * *

Harry's arrival into the 'cradle of life' was undramatic. He didn't know what he was looking for and all he knew is that modern life started in the area between the two rivers here.

Harry would fly over the whole countryside and stop at anything that simply stood out from everything else. He of course had to use the disillusionment charm on himself, as there was many people living in this part of the world.

Harry, being Harry, did stumble across something worth investigating.

It was a small bubbling pool of liquid, no larger than a bathtub. The fact that it was bubbling is what threw him off.

The substance in the pool looked like a potion of sorts, but his senses told him that it was completely without magic.

Harry was hesitant to touch the ooze, but it looked primal in nature.

Harry shivered while he observed the soupy ooze bubble and pop a few times. The smell wasn't great either.

He had a feeling that this was the something he was hoping to find. Harry wasted no time before pooling his magic together like all the previous times. He concentrated on the primordial ooze and a crystal slowly started to form on the top. After a few minutes it was done and Harry carefully levitated it out of the goop and into his bottomless bag.

With that out of the way, he only had one more to get. Time. He needed to find something that was timeless. He didn't much fancy crystallizing a part of himself, but there were other options. Elder vampires maybe, but the obvious choice was his shaman mentor. The man was 5000 years old and didn't look to be dying anytime soon. Heck, he wasn't even sure the guy was human, despite outwards appearances.

With a very loud POP, Harry apparated back to the shaman's encampment.

Right away he noticed the shaman was sitting in front of a fire, whittling on a piece of bone.

"Ah, Artemis. I see you are still alive. I guess I should state that I was joking when I said that apprentices usually take a few months to gather the ingredients. They usually took no more than a week… I expect you went on some grand adventure and would not settle for any old primal fire or water."

Harry had the decency to stand there for 5 whole minutes with his mouth gaping open like a fish.

"Bugger. So I could have been done years ago?"

"Yup." The shaman said delightfully. "But I can tell by your posture that you need something still…"

"Yeah. Crystallized Time. I was wondering if you could give me a little bit of it from yourself?"

"Ah, is that all?" The shaman said sarcastically. "Is that the last piece you need?"

"Yeah, I got the other 6 right here."

"Ok let me see them. I will start the potion so we can finish this once you have the last."

The shaman bustled about the inside of his hut for about an hour, and came out holding a piece of rolled up hide and a goblet filled with an unknown liquid.

"The shows all yours kid, do your thing."

Harry swirled his magic around himself as a shroud. His senses were going haywire when he felt exactly how much magic was at the shaman's disposal- it seemed infinite. No matter, he only needed a small piece.

He felt his way through the shaman's magic, looking for the juiciest and most concentrated portion. It was also the brightest, and when he found it he immedietly crystallized it.

He handed the crystal over to the shaman who immedietly began working with the 7 elemental crystals.

"Remember this. You can never control magic. You can use it, manipulate it, but never control it. It controls you. You cannot live without it. Your very essence is intertwined with it. It has you by the balls and it would serve you well to remember that. You treat magic with respect, and you will get respect in return."

Harry could not tell what shaman did but the 7 crystals all molded into one very tiny crystal. That crystal then became liquefied after some coaxing from the shaman. He poured it into the goblet.

"There is one ingredient left, and that is life essence of the elder; my blood." Jordan then cut a vein and poured quite a bit of his blood into the cup.

Harry looked slightly repulsed but he was not about to back down now.

"The effects will not be immediate, but there will be effects. You will most likely fall unconscious sometime after you drink it. If I am not here when you wake up, then I want you to read this note I wrote for you. It will explain a few things. Are you ready?"

"Ready as I will ever be." Harry took the cup out of Jordan's hand. "Cheers."

Harry took the goblet and chugged it down completely before the taste could register. It took all his considerable willpower and then some to keep from throwing up. It was the single most foul tasting concoction that has been brewed on the face of the earth. It made polyjuice taste like butterbeer and made Firewhiskey taste like nothing but plain water.

The blood was not even the most dominant taste, but the coppery flavor was there in abundance. There were other ingredients in the potion also, ones that the shaman prepared before adding the crystallized loveliness, but none of which he could identify. The crystallized element was the main deal though. The taste of death was indescribable, and nothing that no mortal should ever try. The rest was anything but child's play.

After a few minutes of clutching his stomach and trying not to throw up is when his whole world started to fall apart. He started to feel extremely woozy and lightheaded, almost drug like.

Harry did not even notice the shaman come up and start a chant in a long-dead language. The shaman took his ancient pendant in one hand and pressed it up against Harry's chest.

A white glow engulfed the both of them, but Harry did not notice because his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. The last thing he heard before passing out was "Farewell, Harry Potter."

* * *

Harry wasn't sure what was going on. He didn't know if he was dead, dreaming, hallucinating, or something else. It was almost as if he were in an out-of-body experience, or in a pensive because he had no control over the images he was seeing

_A large cloaked figure stood at the topmost point of a dreary looking fortress, his back turned to the newcomer._

Harry recognized the newcomer as himself right away, but had no idea who or what the other thing was.

_Harry was noticeably shivering, and it was only intensified by the nasty storm going on around them. The cloaked figure slowly turned around. Harry's green eyes locked with the fiery demon-like eyes of the other figure._

"_I will break you boy. I know things you cannot even dream of."_

"_I doubt that. I _have _seen things that _you _could not even begin to comprehend, let alone dream, beyond the realms of the mortal world. You are like a festering wound, but you will die in the end. I will make sure of it."_

The scene slowly changed into something less dreary.

_Harry was lying down and saw the pile of clothes at the foot of his bed. To his right was a table with flowers in a vase, and two half finished glasses of wine._

_He heard a voice emitting from the bathroom. "That was so great last night; I never imagined that it would be so enjoyable. We should have done that a long time ago…"_

Harry didn't get to see the face of the voice before the scene changed again.

_Harry was standing in a familiar looking forest. In front of him was standing a young woman. She had black hair and was wearing a handmade outfit, but it was not something you would find a civilized person wearing, even a witch. She was wearing a skirt made up of feathers and possibly leather. Her shirt was nothing more than a scarf that went from around the back of her neck, down her average sized but nicely shaped breasts and across her stomach. She was also wearing a long glove on her left arm that went all the way to her shoulder and was ornamented with a few feathers. She also had a large carved staff attached to her back that was clearly magical in nature._

"_Can I teach someone to become a shapeshifter you ask? Yes, I suppose I could. Will I? No." The girl snootily said._

"_What if I were to offer something in return?" Harry asked_

"_What could you possibly have that I would want?"_

"_A grimoire. I believe you know which I refer to?"_

"_A grimoire you say? And pray tell me how did you come across said grimoire?"_

"_Now that would be telling. So do we have a deal?"_

"_We have a deal. I teach you how to control it, and you will give me that book."_

Harry had no clue what that scene was about, but it abruptly switched after that deal was made.

_Harry was standing amidst a veritable battlefield of carnage. All around him were dead and wounded, many dressed in suits of armor and carrying kite or tower shields made of iron._

"_Who are you to stand against my might?" A man questioned from a small distance away. His eyes blazed green as he waved his wand in a complex motion._

"_I am your downfall, Potter. This has gone on far too long." Harry replied to the other man. "I will not sit idly by as you destroy my land. Prepare to die!"_

The scene changed once again, but Harry couldn't help but be freaked out by the last one.

_Harry watched a horse-drawn carriage waltz by and stop in front of two waiting men. One was a young man with auburn hair and the start of a beard. His nose had a noticeable crook in it that seemed vaguely familiar. The other man was middle aged with streaks of grey at his temples. He extruded an aura of power, but it was cordial and respected._

"_No need to be shy, Albus, the carriage won't bite." The older of the two men chided the other._

"_Yes, yes, I know what a carriage is old man!" The younger of the two joked. "Is there no faster way to travel?"_

"_My manor is charmed against apparation and portkey. There are very volatile substances there and any small influx of magic could unsettle them. Best to be safe, as any small mistake could be your last. Such is the life of an alchemist." The older man sighed. "Still, having an apprentice around could be helpful. If you are nice, I might even show you my recent discovery of a new use for Dragon's Blood."_

Harry was intrigued by this scene, but it faded into a new one before he could see anymore of the young Dumbledore.

_Harry was watching Dumbledore slowly lose ground to Voldemort. Harry saw the killing curse arc towards the aging headmaster and decided then to step in. He faded into view right in front of the curse and brought up his two warblades and deflected it. Just as this happened, ministry officials started to floo in._

_He then faded right behind Voldemort and stuck his right sword right through his chest, and lopped off his left arm with the other. I then kicked the man into the Fountain of Magical Brethren. Harry knew the wounds would not kill him as his body was mostly made of magic and was essentially a construct, but it would still piss him off. Voldemort looked shocked, but as he was about to send a fireball at him, Voldemort quickly decided to make his getaway. He portkeyed away before anything else could happen, but left his severed arm on the ground._

_It just happened that Fudge saw Voldemort with his own eyes and said "It was Him, He really is back, I cannot believe it, I saw it myself…what a mess… what's a man to do? … …."_

_Dumbledore slowly grabbed onto the outstretched hand and was pulled up by the young Harry. "What is the identity of my rescuer?" The headmaster asked wearily._

_Harry smirked and sheathed his swords. "Artemis Entreri," was all he said as he apparated away._

The images shifted once more and Harry settled in to watch.

_There were several hundred people gathered on two sides of an aisle. Harry saw himself watching the proceedings from afar. The bride was slowly walking up the lane being escorted by her dad. She was quite pretty, even sexy, with her envious curves, slender legs and cute face, but neither the real Harry nor dream Harry felt any jealousy._

_The groom was already waiting for her with tears of love coming out of his eyes. It was himself, or rather his true self that was native to this dimension._

_Harry watched as Harry and the unknown platinum blonde haired bride lost each other in their eyes, striking green meeting lovely blue-gray._

"_We are gathered here today…"_

The scene flickered briefly into a new one. His viewpoint was quite far away in this one, too far to make out either of the people.

_A man and a woman were lying down next to each other on a sandy beach. They were utterly isolated, and there were no sounds other than the waves, not even a bird. They both had black hair and both were wearing sunglasses. They watched as the sun slowly sank down into the horizon._

"_Well, I guess this is the end…?" the female said. Their serenity was broken by the sound and sight of mushroom clouds appearing on the horizon._

"_No. This is just beginning." The man said. "Our work starts now."_

The scene faded out and changed to an overhead view of a place he was familiar with; the shaman's encampment.

_Everything was burnt to the ground, and he saw two figures laid out next to each other. One was the shaman. His eyes were closed and his chest was not rising. He looked at peace in death._

_The other was a small winged creature, no bigger than a foot. It was covered in white and blue scales, with hints of silver at the seams. It was serpentine in shape, and if Harry didn't know better he would say it was a baby dragon. An expert would say it was a young whelpling or wyrmling._

_Harry's viewpoint started descending towards to ground, slowly getting closer to the dragon. He wondered when it was going to stop when his point of view went right into the creature._

Harry immedietly snapped his eyes open and looked around. His head pivoted and he immedietly saw his wings. He struggled to stand up on his feeble hind legs, and his front arms were equally worthless to his new body.

It was then he realized that _he_ was the dragon. He started hyperventilating at the severity of the situation. He was panicking and wondering if it was permanent.

He tried to get all his limbs working in sync, but it was almost as if he had 6 limbs plus a tail to work together, and he just couldn't do it. The feeling was too foreign.

His fears were short-lived though as his body slowly reverted back to his natural human form.

The first thing he noticed was that he felt very cold. The then noticed the breeze flowing around certain areas. He was completely naked. He wasted no time in conjuring a robe for himself. He saw his nundu pelt and other clothes off to the side with a letter on top. It was the letter that the shaman mentioned before.

At the thought of the shaman he immedietly turned around and went over to where he was on the ground.

He checked the pulse, listened for breathing, felt the chest for movement, and even lifted the eyelids to look at the eyes. He felt no magic at all emitting from the man, just residue left over from something that once was.

Jordan was dead and Harry was at a loss. He was not ashamed that he started to cry, he was the only companion he had for many years.

He didn't know what to do and he was having trouble getting his thoughts together. He didn't know what to make of the induced visions he had, but one of the last things the shaman said to him as to read that letter.

He unrolled it and read;

_Artemis._

_ By now, if you have not figured it out, I am dead. Although that term is relative as I am not sure I was ever alive in the first place. I was not as human as you were lead to believe, but that is of no significance. _

_ I am a spirit, and I return from whence I came; I am from the barrier that separates your world from the land of the dead. Some would simply call it magic. I am born of the same material as Fate and Destiny itself._

_Remember when I told you that raw magic in large concentrations likes to take on its mind of its own? I am a being of pure magic that was given sentience for a specific task; to teach you. I was brought into this world 5135 years ago for this exact moment. I was the very first shaman on this planet, but I am not the last, and neither are you. Our skills live on in the form of many shamans that I have taught done the years, so do not fret._

_ Now for the reason to why I am dead. I knew you would need my essence to create the crystallized time. I knew this before I even met you. I essentially gave up my immortality to do this and I would have died in less than one day as a result. That is why I willing imbued my life energy into you. Combined with the Rite of Initiation, you will have no doubt have discovered the new gift that has been bestowed upon you. It is up to you to figure out how to use it. I will give you a hint and tell you that it is not an animagus form- sorry, but it is perhaps much more potent. There are many things I have not taught you about being a shaman, but becoming a master in the art is your choice to make, not mine._

_ My sacrifice was something I knew I was going to have to do since the day I came into this world, and I knew when I sent you off on your little trip that it was finally time for me to fulfill my purpose. Some things are just Fated to us, and I know you know this better than most. _

_ I know you remember the lesson I told you about resurrecting the dead. It takes an equal life force, amongst other things, for it to work. The Initiation works on the same basic idea, except the sacrifice of life is not usually necessary. I was the only equal life force that was suitable for it, but it required all of it to perform, as I suspected it would. Vampires may be immortal, but they are also dead and thus have no life force, so do not trouble yourself over the decision as it was made millennia ago. _

_ What you do with your powers is your choice. You are a Wizard, a Shaman, and a Druid. Your Fate and Destiny are not as set in stone as you think. You are a protector, that much is clear. Not all events are within your control, and not all events are even within Fates control. Not everything happens for reasons you can understand, and some things happen to matter how hard you try to prevent them._

_ Remember back to the first day we met. You were looking for an evil book, and you did not find it, and now you fear its knowledge has leaked into enemy hands. Your original purpose has now turned into a much larger purpose of combating the evil that would subjugate your lands. You are uniquely suited for this task and you have many resources at your hand to accomplish your task._

_ My final words of advice are to try and tie up the loose end with that book, as you might find a source of much evil at its end. You may also find something that you thought lost and beyond reproach to be your greatest ally. _

_ ~Oduduwa_

_ P.S. I suggest you take the stone that is attached to my necklace. Its origin directly correlates with my entrance into your world. While on your planet, I was human in essentially the same way that a conjured rabbit is a real rabbit. Seeing how I was made from magic, I could not have any magic of my own. That is part of why I was a shaman, so I could use natures magic. The stone held my personal magic. With my death it loses most its power, but I am sure you know someone who could find a use for it._

Harry finished reading the letter and was once again at a loss for words. The turn of events was too much for him.

He though he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and when he turned to look he saw Jordan's body slowly dissolve into the air before disappearing altogether.

All that was left was Jordan's Old World artifact. Harry picked it up and dubbed it 'The Stone of Jordan.' He looked around and saw that there was nothing salvageable, and nothing left for him here.

He had much to think about, such as the odd magical gift that the shaman imbued into him. If it was not an animagus form, what was it?

With a swirl of his magic, Harry apparated back home.

* * *

Author's Notes

This chapter has been complete for a few weeks now, but I have taken my time editing it. Due to my new time demanding job, I have not given this as many read-throughs as I have liked (a mere 3) so the quality of it may have slipped to a larger than normal amount of grammatical and spelling errors.

If anyone wants to beta any parts of my story (past or future chapters) please send me a message. I am my own toughest critic, but it is also sometimes hard to catch my own errors. Also, if there are any glaring plot holes, send me a message. Often times I do have the answers but simply did not convey my ideas good enough in the story.

Next chapter we will see Rowena again. Just remember that this is primarily an action/adventure fic and not a romance, although there will be some, as I have been including small details and hints.

I decided to place the Fountain of Youth in the Chicxulub crater, as opposed to its mythical locations such as Bimini or the Gulf of Mexico. I briefly thought about putting it at the head of the Tigris or Euphrates River.

If you are confused about the difference between the various magic 'disciplines' that have been talked about so far, it is somewhat intentional. Shamanism is a sort of blend between druidism and 'Old Magic' Old Magic is intentionally vague, but is the building blocks to modern magic. Think of the Room of Requirement and the idea that Hogwarts is semi-sentient, and then you have a partial idea of 'Old Magic.' Shamanism and druidism are kind of two sides of the same coin, and there is a lot of overlap between disciplines, but there are enough differences to be noticeable.

I have no plans for Harry to learn any other 'magical disciplines'. I have shown with Rowena and Jordan that such categories as dark magic, blood magic, warding, do not exist but are simply coined terms for existing sub categories or mixes of charms, runes, etc. It is intentionally confusing to a degree on purpose- I wanted to show that Wanded magic is more scientific and refined than the primal magics, but lacking in some areas. Wanded magic is pretty much magic adapted for modern use, while Old Magic has limited uses in modern civilization because it is essentially the caveman of magic. Harry is doing his best to learn from both worlds.

Wandless magic as typically seen in fanfiction (casting stunners with your fingers, waving your hand to summon or banish something) does not exist as such in this universe. Wandless magic almost strictly refers to different branches of magic that do not require a wand, potions, runes, shamanism, druidism, etc

I tried to explain that ideas such as necromancy are not their own branches of magic, but rather just a set of skills a person favors over other types of magic, just like an auror usually has a specific set of skills they use more than others, or a set of skills that a blacksmith specializes in.

I said in the end that the shaman Jordan (Oduduwa) was not human and was a 'spirit'. For LotR buffs, you can compare Jordan to Gandalf who is an Ainur, which is essentially an otherworldly type being taking human form.

On a final note; I have a slight desire to redo some of the earlier chapters, namely just the first 3 or 4. There are some things I wrote that I am no longer fond of, and I think that my intents with some of my ideas are getting muddled because of the time elapsed from when I first wrote them to now. I am worried that I might start contradicting some of my own ideas, and it is possibly that I have already done so.

I do like the lighthearted feel my story has in general, but I do get longwinded sometimes, as this Author's Note shows. I have thought about changing the rating to M so I could include some 'heavy romance' scenes, but I may just add those scenes into an alternate version of this story to add to either here or ficwad. I don't think there has ever been a good lemon scene of HP/RR and it is something I am interested in writing, but with this story not really romance heavy and rated T I don't see it happening.

Finally, I have a lot of ideas for c13, but I don't have that much written yet. I will say though, that so far, this story is still in its prologue stages, after all, it is supposed to span 1000 years. C13 will finally show the HP/RR pairing for everyone who has been waiting…


	13. Blood and Thunder

Disclaimer: I own none of this, The HP universe and character was created by JKR.

Pre-notes- As you can see, I upped the rating from T to M to be on the safe side, but it does become obvious why towards the end of the chapter.

The air twisted around him as Harry landed perfectly at the outskirts of Diagon Alley. Tendrils of magical smoke swirled around after the large pop that sounded in his wake. Many people looked at him with confusion in their eyes, but Harry ignored them. Wearing his nundu pelt into the middle of Medieval London was probably not the smartest thing to do if he wanted to blend in, nor the extremely loud apparation.

The first thing Harry wanted to do was visit Ollivander. While the man could not really help him too much, it was almost like visiting one of the regulars at a bar that would constantly give you sage-like advice for all of your problems.

He made his way into the eternally dingy shop and saw Ollivander working on something.

"Ah Artemis, I see you now bear the mark of the Shaman." Ollivander stated with a smirk.

"What…How?" Harry sputtered. What is with old men knowing everything? His shaman tutor did the same thing constantly, knowing stuff that he shouldn't. He knew why both men knew… but it didn't mean he had to like it. The shaman had seer like abilities, and Ollivander is really Merlin, but Harry thinks he is just a dirty old man. He wasn't sure which he feared more.

"The mark of the Shaman is not a physical mark," Ollivander said while gesturing to his face, "It is a mark deep down in here," he said, this time gesturing to his heart.

Harry sighed. "So has anything interesting happened while I was gone?"

"Surely you jest? You have been gone for nearly 15 years! Of course things have happened."

"Really? It's been 15 years? Ah damn. I thought it was only 5 or 6 at the most…"

"Wow, you are an idiot. A war has been going on below surface for many years –"

"Against the Dwarves you mean?"

"Not against them specifically, but the Dwarves have been the front line defense battling them for centuries. The war finally spilled onto surface, with the forces of evil consisting of various sub-human but semi-intelligent creatures –"

"Gnolls, ogres and trolls?" Harry said, remembering what King Thothic told him once.

"Yes, Yes, now stop interrupting me you petulant child!"

Harry smiled in response.

"Now I do not know everything of what happened, but they were led by a very intelligent and ancient evil. That evil was eventually defeated, but by whom I cannot say. The forces of good were comprised of Dwarves, Elves and men. The non-magical kind, mind you."

"Wait, so there are foot soldiers and such out there who know of the existence of elves and dwarves?"

"There is no curtain of secrecy here yet boy. The normals have known about magic for a long time. They either accept it, or they hate it. The forces of good were accompanied by some mages, but they were mostly from a localized group of arcane mages, rather than from the world at large. We _are_ seen by some as being very dangerous, so they do tend to be careful around us."

"So this evil was defeated, right?"

"Correct, by a band of adventures. I am ashamed to admit that I do not know much about it, as I am trapped in the shop all day long. I do know that the Dwarves and Elves suffered very severe losses. The Dwarves have all but locked down their city, with no known entrances to get in. The elves, well, that is an even less thrilling story. Some human mages decided to take advantage of their weakened state and enslaved them. The majority of them are nothing more than a shadow of their former selves, servants to do their master's every whim. It is truly disgusting. There are rumors, however, that some elves managed to escape this fate and are still on the run from the rogue mages."

"That is disturbing news indeed." Harry agreed. "Who allows these mages to run wild?"

"Well, everyone. Many people don't care unless it is happening to themselves. Rumors have it that they have gone down the dark path, and are corrupted. Their numbers are not many, so you should be able to handle them. They are not the issue though. With the defeat of the great evil, another evil is manifesting in the east. This one controls beings of despair and hopelessness."

"Dementors? Surely you jest?"

"Do I look like I am laughing boy? I have not seen one, but again, there are rumors of them in the deep woods."

"What is in the east exactly?"

"Surely you have not forgotten what your quest was?"

"Destroying that stupid book… oh wait, Azkaban?"

Ollivander nodded gravely.

"So that book somehow ended back up in Azkaban-"

"The place is a library you know."

"Oh, right. And some bloke there read out of it, and is now parading around the country as a dark lord?"

"As far as I know, he hasn't left."

"Oh, so I should go there and kill him?"

"Eventually, yes. First I would deal with the localized damaged from the dementors and the rogue mages. Figure out what is going on with the elves and dwarves."

"And Rowena?"

"What about her?"

"Is, er, is she, … ?"

"Sorry, I didn't understand that. Maybe if you got the dick out of your mouth I could hear what you are trying to say."

Harry sighed in frustration. "What has she been doing?"

"Studying magic as far as I know."

"Any family?"

Ollivander shrugged. "What do I look like?"

"You always seem to know the answers…"

"No, I know just enough to annoy you."

"That you do… Anyways, my mentor gave me this," Harry said as he pulled out the Stone of Jordan.

"Ah, I see. I cannot touch it."

"Why not?" Harry asked. "What can it be used for?"

"It can be used as a magical focus, but it is going to have to be created by you. I do not want to taint it with my own magic, as that was once a very powerful object."

"Oh, well I doubt I could make a wand."

"It is a relaxing hobby, but a magical focus does not have to be a wand."

"I shall think about it then."

"Well, get going boy, you have work to do."

"Yes, yes, I'm going."

888

Harry apparated to his tower, Duergen. It looked to be completely untouched. He went up to the top and laid down to rest. He decided that it did not seem like there was any immediate danger, just a persisting one.

He was lying on his bed for a few hours when he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

He got up to look out the window. Whatever it is was getting closer. The silhouette on the horizon was slowly getting larger and coming right for him.

Harry did not know how that could be possible. He checked the spells on the tower and they were all functioning. No one should be able to find the tower that he didn't want to.

He was checking over the wards one last time when he heard the sound of smashing glass. He spun around immedietly and saw a black haired girl bounce across the room with a broom clutched in her hand.

He ran over to her. "Rowena!"

"Uhg, I never was much of a flyer…" She said as she passed out.

Her wounds did not seem to be severe, with her broom breaking the actually window and her just getting hit by broken glass.

The first thing Harry did was quickly wave his wand at the window to repair it. The window was not thin stuff either, it was several inches thick.

Harry then took a few minutes to use his shamanistic magic to heal her wounds.

However, when he was done it looked like she was still in significant pain, and it looked like she was having trouble breathing. All his diagnosis showed that she was physically fine. Not knowing what else to do, he woke her back up

She sat up straight right away, and looked around in panic before spotting Harry. "Artemis! Your… your magic is smothering me!"

"What? I can't control it. Our magics are too alike I think, I do not know why this is happening."

"Are you… Are you…?"

"Immortal?"

"Yes, that."

"Yes."

"I am not meant to be, your magic is tearing me apart because of it. I have not aged, but your magic cannot sustain it. I need… I need it to stop. My magic is going to burst soon it feels like."

"How do we stop this?"

"A spell maybe, but more likely a potion. A neutralizing or stabilizing potion." She started rambling off ingredients at a frightening pace. "I am going to need your blood."

"No."

"Your immortal blood will cure this."

"It will also kill you. I have ingested things that no normal man, or even giant, would live from. Not to mention there is traces of basilisk venom in my veins, but a trace is all that is needed to kill. And I do not have any phoenix tears to combat it."

"Oh, neither do I… I have never even seen one." She started to cry. "Oh, I am going to die…"

"Will turning you immortal cure this?" I asked after a few minutes. "Instead of this pseudo-youth thing you have going on."

"I have no wish to become a vampire."

"I am not a vampire, nor do I know any, but I do think I have a solution."

"A philosopher's stone?"

"No, I am rubbish at alchemy. Here, maybe if you use this in your potion." Harry handed her a small vial from his bottomless bag.

"What is it?"

"It's a little something I picked up on my journey. I have no use for it though. It's water."

"Water… ?"

"From the Fountain of Youth."

"Oh," She said, "OH!"

"Yeah."

"So… ?"

"It should stabilize your magic and make you immortal. The Old Magic's work in mysterious ways, but I believe this will work."

"This is the real deal?"

"Yes. I found it on my shamanistic Rite of Initiation."

"So that is what you have been doing for 15 years? You kissed me and left me out to dry you know."

"I did not think it would take that long."

"Obviously not, but one would think you would have learned your lessons with your druid training."

"Yeah, yeah. I am surprised you did not find a man, as beautiful as you are… eternally youthful.

"I have not looked for a man. I have been researching all branches of magic. My discoveries are quite fascinating, in fact that is how I discovered your magic latching onto mine in a symbiotic relationship-"

"Hey, let's do this potion first than we can talk. How long do you think this will take?"

"That depends. Do you have any ingredients here? A workroom?"

"That, and much more."

Harry took her hand and led her to the room where a massive selection of ingredients is held under stasis.

Rowena dug right in and started picking out everything she would need. A few times she would have to ask Harry what the ingredient was, but Harry did not know either. They did discover an organized ledger though, so they quickly looked at exactly what he had, and there was a lot. Anything from demon ichor to thermoset knarl's blood. There were some things missing though, no basilisk venom of phoenix tears, nor anything from other really nasty creatures.

Rowena eventually bustled into the nearby workroom with bundles full of ingredients and went straight to work.

"I thought Helga was the potions master?"

"She is better at growing the ingredients, but I am the better brewer. I can't teach every class though, so she does. I need your help. I will stir in a lemniscate while you add the ground up Oak Tears once every seven seconds."

He cast a variation of the tempus charm to time the seconds. There was no Dwarven water clock installed in this room.

Slowly through the night we worked on this potion, and in the morning, it was complete. There were nearly 70 ingredients in the thing. The end result was a translucent black liquid; it turned that color as soon as she added the Fountain water.

"Let's hope this works." Rowena said as she gulped the goblet of liquid down.

The effects were immediate. A magical wind engulfed the room as her dress started to blow about as if in a cyclone. She went down on her knees and started clutching her head.

Harry felt as if he was be compressed, and his magic was going haywire.

Rowena was still clutching her head in front of him, mouth open in a silent scream. Wisps of magic were blowing off her robe, and even out of her mouth. Her eyes glowed completely silver as her hair whipped around her face.

After what seemed like hours, but really was only a few minutes, Rowena collapsed onto the ground.

Harry ran over to her to check for a pulse, and thankfully it was strong. Harry's immediate diagnosis was magical exhaustion, having suffered it several times in his life, but he did not think it wise to treat it. There was a complicated potion that could speed up the recovery, but he felt the best option was to let her rest, especially since what caused it was extremely complicated and experimental in nature. He did not want to mess up the results.

Harry picked up her light body, weighing no more than 8 stone, and laid her to rest on his bed. He put a pillow under her head and put a light blanket over her. She looked peaceful at rest, no longer in pain and no longer struggling to breathe. Harry brushed some stray strands of hair out of her face.

Harry sat down and finally took notice of the effects of the potion Rowena drank. He felt whole, for the lack of a better term. It felt as if all his magic was now at his disposal, even though it never felt like he was missing any. He felt more refreshed than he has ever had. It seemed whatever was attaching his magic to hers was no longer at work.

He felt more powerful too, but only slightly. A wizard's magical power grows rapidly during their teenage years and peaks around 17 or 18 years old. A persons magic from then on out grows only slightly as they get older and then speeds up again during a mages later years to prolong their lifespan.

Harry knew his power did not increase from his shaman or druid training, but he did feel the increase now. It was similar to the increase he felt after he no longer had Voldemort's soul leeching off his when he entered the world. While the training did not increase his actual power, he knew how to control it better and use his power more efficiently, and that was more important than having too much power that he would never use anyways.

He knew now that his magic was no longer attached to Rowena, and that was a good thing. She still had her youthful appearance and did not seem to be aging, so he took it as a good sign that the waters from the Fountain of Youth had done their thing. They simple replaced one instable immortality with another stable one.

He took her hand, and while it still felt _good_ to be holding it, their magics were longer trying to force themselves on each other. Harry simply concluded that they still had the same magical signature, but all the other problems that were there before were now gone.

It was hard to believe that the individual in front of him was also now eternal, truly the same as him. It was hard to comprehend that there was another person out there like him, and Rowena Ravenclaw of all people. How was this going to affect history?

Harry then noticed that a book was on the ground next to the broom Rowena stormed his tower with. He picked it up and read the title _De Re Magicka. _His curiosity perked, he opened it up and started reading.

He managed to figure out after a few pages what the book was. It was her researched into the actual fundamental differences between curses and hexes and the like. Apparently she was trying to figure out what Harry's magic was doing to her, and ended up categorizing many spells into their primal roots.

It was fascinating, if he was honest with himself. There were a few question marks, the first being around Harry's own aura which had a golden color which she could not find in any other spell. There were a few other oddities, such as the Killing Curse having tendrils of darkness reaching out of it. After that there was a bunch of scribbles that looked hasty and could not be read.

It was interesting to see how Rowena both discovered the visible light spectrum, and what Harry would dub the magical spectrum. She essentially discovered a ton of spell's unique magical signatures, but did not call it as such. It was fascinating to see that Rowena had no prejudice against any type of magic. Hell, it looked like she invented or discovered the fiendfyre curse, which had an inert property of being dark, which she has defined in a few ways; being demonic in nature, malicious mind and emotionally altering spells, spells that maliciously involve blood. She also showed that all of those spells have a dark grey element in addition to the other colors. Harry read through a list of the spells and the majority of which he has traditionally thought of as dark, were in fact not.

Harry watched over Rowena constantly to make sure she was never in danger of something happening to her. He owed that much to her, as it was his fault she was in the position in the first place. Harry, not having much else to do, wrote down a list of spell for Rowena to add to her book, while trying out some of the ones he did not know. He realized he was very rusty at wizarding magic.

888

It would be seven days before Rowena would wake up from her magical coma. Harry was watching over her as much as he could while reading an random book from his often forgotten Black library stash. He still didn't even know exactly what he had in there.

Harry saw her eyes slowly flutter open and he rushed over to the bed. "Rowena, how are you feeling?"

"Like a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders."

"Do you feel my magic anymore?"

"No I cannot."

"You feel anything different?"

"No, not really. You are going to have to explain this whole immortality thing though."

"Right. Well, remember when I asked you what you know about the about the Perevell Brothers?"

"Yes, and I did look for stories on them. Nothing I read sounded like it had a basis in reality. Just children's tales."

"Tales often have some basis in truth." Harry said. He reached around inside his bag and pulled out his two hallows and then his wand out of his holster.

"Those are the items from the story?" Rowena asked in awe.

"These are the real deal. They were crafted using Old Magic, as were many other artifacts."

"Can I test them?"

Harry nodded his head.

Rowena pulled out her wand and cast her diagnosis charm on the items. They all glowed with a golden color.

"That solves the puzzle I suppose…"

"These three items combined create an effect that makes me immortal, the 'master of death' is the phrase the story uses."

"And now I am immortal because I drank water from the Fountain of Youth?"

"I would imagine so."

"This is a lot to take in."

"Here, maybe you can think of something to do with this." Harry tossed her the Stone of Jordan.

"What is it?"

"It's an Old World artifact that once anchored my mentor's magical power. When he died, the power went with it."

"Mentor for what?"

"Shamanism."

"And that took 15 years?"

"I got carried away, It could have gone quicker."

"I see... Druidism and Shamanism, there are not too many other –isms for you to study I think." Rowena said as she started to inspect the stone. "So what happens now?"

"Well, I just got back to the country when you flew through my window, so I am not very up to date with the current happenings, but I do know there is evil out there that I need to stop. Vile creatures have been seen in the deep wilds, and their source is Azkaban. Also the elves have been routed and enslaved, and the dwarves have sealed their kingdom off. What have you been up to?"

"Aside from burying myself in my research trying to figure out what your magic was doing to me? Next to nothing."

"No guys in your life?"

"None. Godric long ago gave up his attempts to woo me and has since gotten remarried. Helga actually has a few grandchildren now. She is starting to show some age, she is in her 50's."

"Wow, and you look one third of her age."

"Thanks to you." She said with a smile.

"That is why I am surprised you haven't gotten married yet. You are beautiful, intelligent, witty, and exciting. I mean you flew a broom threw my window and everything."

"Well to be honest I was sort of hoping that you would return one day." She stated shyly. "With that kiss you gave me and how nice you have always been to me…"

Harry didn't answer that for several minutes, instead watching the sunset in the window.

Eventually Harry answered. "You know, there wasn't a week that gone by that I did not think of you. I thought for sure that you would be happily married and with children, but seeing you here now I am at a loss."

"I… well…"

"Do you have anywhere to stay? I offer my tower to you. Nearly anything you need can be found in this place."

"Well, I admit I did blow up my house a week ago with my experiment, and am currently homeless. I shall accept your offer. What about us though?"

"I have a duty to protect this country, from whoever or whatever has malicious intentions to its inhabitants. If you want to join me on this duty, then I will welcome you."

"It seems almost fate that brought you to me, and given me immortality to join you in this duty. What else is there to do for eternity but to protect that which nurtures us? I have waited 15 years for you to come back, on the off chance that something could happen between us. You have given me the gift of never becoming old, and I want to share that with you. I do not know what love is like. I do not know what it is like to be in a relationship. My lifestyle is not one of that who is expected to raise a family. I expected to die without knowing love, or the feel of a man. I expected to die as pure as the day I was born. But since I no longer have an end-date, I am willing to give this a try."

Harry continued watching the sunset for another minute before responding in a gentle tone.

"I am the same way. I don't know what love is. My parents died when I was one year old, I grew up neglected. I had very few legitimate friends. I tried to form a few relationships, but none of them lasted. I expected my immortality to be a curse with everyone I ever get close to dying before my eyes, but if you are willing to give this a shot then I believe that immortality is in fact a blessing."

Rowena got up out of the bed and stood beside Harry facing him in front of the window. Harry turned towards her and took her hands in his. He gave her a smile which she responded with a dazzling one of her own.

Rowena slowly leaned forward, and Harry followed suit. They met in the middle with a gentle kiss that spoke more than words could.

She was not much shorter than Harry, maybe an inch, so all she had to do was tilt her head up slightly to meet Harry's lips.

Harry wrapped his arms around her torso after a few seconds, bringing her closer. He felt her unexpectedly ample breasts squish into his chest as he held her close.

After another few seconds of gentle kissing, they pulled back. They stared at each other with smiles on their faces.

Unexpectedly, Rowena's stomach gave a loud rumble. She started laughing and a definite blush came across her face. Harry laughed in response before bringing her to the kitchen area. Harry cooked her up a large meal right away, seeing as she hasn't eaten since before her week long magical coma, and she was a very slim person to begin with.

Needless to say, Harry was a decent cook and Rowena was very surprised that he could cook as good as he could, especially for living out in the wilds for so long. She admitted she was mediocre at best compared to him. Harry could argue it was the wilderness that made him such a good cook. He is a survivor, first and foremost.

After the meal was over Rowena decided it was time for a serious conversation.

"So now that I am here, I feel I deserve some answers."

"Ok." Harry replied. "I will say that are going to need an open mind to accept what I say. It is quite a tale."

"You will find I have a very open mind. I am a researcher first and foremost, and secondly, you gave me water from the Fountain of Youth to make me immortal… it would be very hard to not believe what you say. First question; how old are you really, and where do you hail from?"

"The toughest and most unbelievable question first, sure. I am from Little Whinging, Surrey, England. I was born in the year 1980, July 31st. I left that world on May 2nd, 1998. I arrived here August third, 996. Technically I never had an 18th birthday, as I arrived in this time 3 days after my birthday."

"So…. You are from the future."

"Yes."

"And… how did this happen? How did you lose 3 months?"

"I don't know why I lost three months, that was out of my control. I do think this could be part of the reason why we both have the same magical signature. Mine did not change when I came into this world, and it just happened to be the same as yours. Nothing but a random chance."

"Ok, I think more back story is needed for this tale."

"Right, well. Artemis Entreri is not the name I was born with, but it is the name I adopted upon arriving in this time. I cannot go into too much detail for fear of changing the future beyond its intended path. The future was bleak in my time. There was a very powerful evil wizard who was decimating the country side. One day, he decided to come after me and my family. The wizard, who-shall-not-be-named, killed my parents, but when he attempted to use the killing curse on me, it bounced off me and hit him. We both lived though."

"How?"

"The reason I lived is because of ancient magic my mother cast on me, based on her love for me. The evil wizard was so corrupt that he had never known love. He lived through the rebounded killing curse because of the multiple horcruxes he created."

"Oh. The plot thickens."

"Yes. He was not able to regain his body for about 13 years, but that is a story for another day. Eventually during my 7th year at Hogwarts, the evil wizard was attempting to conquer the school, and we eventually faced off in another battle, and he hit me with the killing curse again. At this point in time, I had two of these Hallows with me, while He had the wand. What he did not expect was that when he first attempted the killing curse on me as a baby, he unintentionally made me into a horcrux. When he tried to kill me like that again is when I met with magical entities who sent me back to this time to stop the knowledge of the Horcrux from spreading and polluting the world. It is also worth mentioning that one of the oddities of this wand is that it cannot harm its true owner, who was me at the time. I believe that could be part of the reason why it targeted his soul fragment rather than mine."

"Wow. You are going to have to tell me about your Hogwarts years. I am curious about the future."

Harry knew his life's story was impossible to tell in a few minutes so he oversimplified it.

"My Hogwarts years were the best years of my life, short as it was. My relatives I was forced to live with after my parents died were not very nice, and not magical. They hated anything to do with magic, so when I got my Hogwarts acceptance letter, it was the single greatest day in my life. And that day is also another story in of itself."

"What are the courses?"

"There was history of magic, charms, transfiguration, potions, defense against the dark arts, astronomy, herbology and the optional electives included muggle studies, ancient runes, arithmancy, care for magical creatures, divination."

"And the houses?"

"Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Slytherin. I was in Gryffindor. There were no know heirs of Gryffindor, but there were rumors that my family was the most likely, but I never found out. The evil wizard who killed my parents is the only direct descendant of Slytherin, as he killed off all the others, along with a few of the descendants of Hufflepuff. Come to think of it, there was a kid in my year at Hogwarts who shares the same last name as that lady, so it is possible he is a descendant. There are no descendants of Ravenclaw, as your only daughter was murdered. She became a ghost and stayed at Hogwarts though."

"Wow." Rowena said, lost in though.

"Ok, how about you tell me a little about yourself now?"

"The only remaining member of my family aside from me is a cousin who I have not seen in many years. My family has been wizards for many generations, but they have all but been wiped out due to war, and not just our own either. I don't know how much you know about the clan wars that happen several decades ago, but that is when the majority of my family was killed. I am the eldest of the family now, and I suppose I forever will be."

"What were the clan wars?"

"Clan wars happen every few decades. My family controlled a lot of land and lorded over several dozen families. We were obligated to protect them."

"Were they magical?"

"No."

"So they knew about magic?"

"Of course, that is why they came to us for protection."

"Oh. In my time, the muggle world is almost completely separated from our world and very few of them actually knew about us. It happened because they started to persecute us and call us freaks of nature. They killed many of the children who could not escape. Without the influence of magic the muggles had to adapt and eventually they became more advanced than us, inventing many things to make their live easier."

"That is terrible. No, we coexist relatively peacefully. That is until the families attack families from the other clans. Many of our families lost most of our land from aggressors. The Ravenclaws, Gryffindors and Slytherins all lost a lot of land. The Hufflepuffs were not involved. There were others who lost land of course, and naturally there were ones who won land. I was not involved as I was quite young at the time, barely 10 years of age. The past is the past though. That was not the first war, nor will it be the last, especially not when land is concerned. It is because of the war though, that I became as fascinated with magic as I am, dedicated to learning everything I can about it. It is also the reason that the 4 of us decided to form a school, so that we will never be caught unawares again."

"That is interesting. I suppose I should say now that, as immortals, it is biologically impossible for us to have kids. It is the nature of the ancient magic that has granted it to us. However, the family I descend from has a long history, and I expect it will pop up sooner or later. Here is what I propose though. The Entreri name has no history or prestige, the Ravenclaw name has both. I will be your champion."

"So you want to be known as Artemis Entreri of House Ravenclaw?"

"If it is acceptable to you."

"Ok, so you shall now be known as that." Rowena complied.

"I will live to protect your names honor."

Rowena smiled and blushed. "Well, I am not sure how much protecting you will have to do. I am a big girl after all and can handle myself."

"Fair enough. I do have one thing I can show you then, just to show that I am telling the truth. Grab my arm, Ill apparate us there, it is on a different floor."

"Ok, but you must teach me how to apparate on my own one day."

"Sure. It is all about intent." Rowena latched on Harry's arm, and with a swirl of Harry's magic, they appeared inside the library room. The tube-like sensation of apparation and the fact that he never left the building briefly reminded him of the Mario Brothers games that his cousin used to play as a kid, but that is neither here or there.

Harry's apparation was nearly silent, at least in comparison with the ten-thousand mile apparation that woke up the whole neighborhood.

Rowena, momentarily dazed from the foreign sensation of apparation, squealed in excitement when she saw the books in the library.

She ran over to the first shelf and picked up one at random. "History of Magic, Volume One, circa 1420. Wow." Her hand brushed the hand written text in reverence before she picked up and read a book made off a printing press. She examined the uniformed text in interest.

"I haven't spent much time in here myself, I do not know how old the books go, but there are not too many from earlier than the 1400's. "

It was at that point in time when Rowena gave a long yawn. "I guess I am a bit tired now. Being unconscious for a week really takes it out of you. I suppose I can wait until tomorrow to explore all the history that has not happened yet."

"You can have the master bedroom, I will take one of the numerous guestrooms." Harry replied

"Nonsense, this is your home, and your bed is large enough to hold 10 of us."

"Er, well… "

"This is a step to being a serious relationship, is it not? Mind you, nothing else will happen. I want you to protect me tonight and keep me warm."

Harry was at a loss. Rowena wanted Harry to sleep with her, in his bed. Sleep in the literal way, and not the sexual way. Who was he to refuse?

Rowena transfigured her clothes into suitable sleeping attire, which in her case was a very light and thing robe. Harry decided to go shirtless.

Rowena was impressed with Harry's physique, He was tan from all the sailing he did, plus he was very fit.

Harry was looking at everything in the room but Rowena. He looked over at his armor rack in the corner that held his nundu pelt, and at the weapons rack in the corner which held his forged sword.

He asked himself in his mind what he was afraid of and the reply was 'nothing.' He wanted to be with Rowena after all, and here she is, in his home. Ever since they first met some 23 years ago, Harry wanted to be with her. Harry thought it would be nice to finally use the place what it was meant for, instead of him always travelling around.

Harry slipped onto the bed and under the covers, but did not get closer than two feet away from Rowena.

Rowena sighed. "You already have me, Artemis, now you just got to keep me. Put your arm around me. Make me feel protected."

Harry slowly slid over to Rowena and rested his hand on her side. Rowena saw that Harry was being very shy so she slide back the rest of the distance and settled herself snuggly against his chest, and pulled his arm so it wrapped around her stomach.

Harry decided that he liked what he was feeling, a lot. Harry pulled her closer to himself, if that was possible, and buried his head in her hair and nuzzled her neck. Harry fell asleep like this very quickly, and it would be one of the very best nights of sleep he has had a very long time.

When he woke up he noticed he noticed his hand had crept up to an awkward location; Rowena's right breast. He tried to pull it off but he noticed that Rowena had it held in place with her own hand, although she was fast asleep with a smile on her face.

Harry didn't know what to do.

His decision was made quickly when he looked out the window. He quickly pulled his hand off her soft globe and jumped out of the bed. He gazed out the window and saw a faint trail of smoke emitting from where the gate to the Dwarven Kingdom of Kilgirn lay.

Rowena was now getting up out of the bed, startled by Harry's abrupt departure.

"Something wrong?" She asked groggily.

"There is smoke outside."

"Where from?"

"The Dwarven city that lies beneath us." Harry replied. "I think we should go check it out."

"How would we get there?"

"Easy. Get ready for the worst, and then I will show you." Harry replied, already putting on some combat gear. He also attached a leather pouch onto his waist. Rowena simply transfigured her clothes with a graceful wave of her wand.

"Grab my arm."

"Apparation?"

"Aye."

Rowena latched onto his arm and immedietly felt the squeezing sensation as they warped through air and ground to land inside the Kingdom of Kilgirn.

They both landed gracefully, given the circumstances they landed in. They both immedietly started to cough as smoke was thick in the air. Harry solved that problem quick by creating some wind to blow it away.

The source of the smoke was not immedietly evident as all the structures in the city are made of stone and unlikely to burn.

There was no movement in the city that either of them could see, but the faint sound of metal clashing could be heard in the distance indicating that the battle was still going on.

Harry and Rowena cautiously made their way into where the smoke seemed to be thickest, tracing along the ceiling in a thick blanket of putrid blackness.

Eventually the sounds of fighting indicated that they were near. They were close to Whurlode, the Iron Citadel. They hid in the shadows and watched on from afar for a few minutes.

The short, stout forms of dwarves could be seen defending the Citadel with a formation inside the doorway, forming a bottleneck. The enemies consisted of many tall, doglike, humanoid figures, several bulky trolls, and a few human mages cloaked in red. The mages were casting spells at the reinforced doors to try and get past the Dwarven wall of muscle.

"Go for the mages first…" Harry told Rowena. "Dwarves have a harder time fighting against magic."

Harry tightened his grip on the Elder Wand, and after a brief second of contemplation, decided on the tried-and-true 'confringo' spell.

The ball of fire arced slowly through the air, and smashed into one of the red-robed mages, exploded the man instantly and causing the gore to rain down on the others nearby. The spell also set the ground on fire in the process, burning several of the dog-like creatures.

He had the attacker's attention now. There were several dozen of them who turned towards the duo, including two trolls and a couple of mages.

Rowena's wand moved in a blur of precise movements before a green ball of smoke launched from her wand and landed in the group of enemies. A gaseous fog could be seen spreading to about 15 feet in diameter.

Harry followed up Rowena's spell with an immobilizing spell in the form of a large spider web. It landed right in the middle of the gas cloud, trapping the inhabitants long enough to collapse from the gas. Whatever the gas was, it killed quickly and most likely painlessly.

The enemy mages were too late in dispelling the gas cloud before it finished off quite a few of their forces, but they quickly countered with direct spells.

The spells were purely arcane in nature, meant to directly harm the person through internal damage. Harry recognized one curse as a blood-boiling curse, and knew that would be bad to be hit by.

The front runners were closing in on Harry. He reached into his pouch and pulled out what appeared to be several twigs.

He tossed them onto the ground, and with a fluid motion, enlarged them. The twigs were actually vines, and they quickly spread out across the ground, multiplying in the process. Rowena was supporting Harry by shielding from the enemy caster's spells, which she seemed to know a surprisingly amount of direct blocks.

Rowena had also taken the time to cast a protective shield on herself, in the form of rotating debris.

Quite a few of the attackers were being bogged down and entangled by the vines. Harry started to pick them off with well placed slashing and piercing curses. Some of the vines he was controlling were also now strangling some of their victims, snuffing their life out. When they died, the vines seemingly decomposed the bodies on the spot, incorporating them into the ground.

But still, they were outnumber and had two trolls quickly approaching.

The dwarves were not to be forgotten though. They would not sit around idle when they saw they had a new ally join the fray.

The dwarves charged at the mages, who were left unprotected at the rear. Harry could see the familiar face of King Thothic leading the blitz. They closed the distance in just a few seconds and the first mage was cut brutally in half before he even realized he was being attacked. The mage next to that one noticed something was wrong when a piece of bloody meat splattered across his face.

The boisterous voice of the King could be heard over the sound of battle. "Let's show them our hearts, boys, and then let's show them theirs!"

The Dwarven charge cut through most of the remaining monsters, with the last troll falling to Harry's wand. He has advanced far since he was a frightened eleven year old and facing a troll was not all that big of a deal. The dwarves, on the other hand, probably had a rough time against them as they were about a third of their size, and their slicing weapons were not as useful as piercing weapons. Dwarves were not one to shy away from a challenge and they would always meet them head on, never once showing fear.

Harry heard a strange sound beside him and turned to see what it was. Rowena was leaning up against a building and was clutching her chest. She was clearly hyperventilating.

Harry ran over to her and quickly brought her into a hug. He rubbed her back soothingly. "Rowena, speak to me. It's all right. Everything is going to be all right."

"It's just… it's just… Those monsters…. Fighting…. Killing…" she choked out.

Harry continued rubbing her back, slowly calming her down "I understand Rowena. You did well."

"I'm not cut out for this."

"Just follow my lead, you are doing fine. What was that spell you use first?"

"It is called the Cloudkill Charm." She replied, perking up a bit. "It is a fairly advanced semi-permanent charm that quickly disables enemies in wide circle, and will most likely kill them within 15 seconds if not countered. It is a rare spell so the chances of it being countered quickly are next to none."

"It looked almost like nundu breath, but thicker."

"I have never seen that so I wouldn't know."

Just as Rowena was getting over her bout of hysteria the dwarves approached. For some reason they were burning all the bodies, creating a terrible stench and the putrid smoke that covered much of the city.

King Thothic greeted them first. "Artemis! You are about the last person I expected to come to our rescue. I have not seen ye for nearly 15 years I'd imagine. Your presence is most welcome of course, as is this young lady's."

"It's good to see you too. The situation down here seems dire, I saw the smoke all the way up in the Tower. Why are you burning these bodies?"

"We've been under siege for weeks. We haven't seen the last of them, that I guarantee. The bodies are burnt lest they be used against us again. Those mages use the foulest of the black magics."

"Blood mages?" Rowena asked.

"Aye," The king responded. "They use their black magic to take control of your body by directly attacking your blood. They can turn even the dead to serve as their mindless minions."

"I do remember one of those men casting a blood boiling spell on me. I don't fancy being hit by that."

"The pain would be incomparable, I'm sure. With some luck, neither of us will have to feel their magic attack our very essence. But be wary, I suspect another attack will be launched in just a few hours. Your help would be most appreciated of course. Maybe with you on our side we can strike at the heart of this siege; the minor demon known as Razekial. After the defeat of the Arch-demon, many of the lesser demons that dwell in the depths of this world have been vying for control. I am unsure how these humans came to be involved in this, but I suspect they messed around with powers beyond their skill and control. They may very well be the catalyst for this demon-lead incursion into our realms."

"Damn. We will have to come up with a plan then, to end this swiftly."

"I'm glad you are here then. Let us go inside the citadel to plan and dine; the whole city is there to wait out the siege."

"How are supplies fairing?"

"More'n enough to last a decade. This is not the first siege this kingdom has faced, and it would be a fools hope to think it be the last. We dwarves are a hardy race, we always come back. Always."

The two humans and the dwarves made it inside the citadel and they beheld all that remained of the once glorious Dwarven Kingdom; about 1000 males and maybe a hundred females. Long tables filled up the hall, but the citadel still had a lot of room, indicating truly how little of the population remained.

Nearly every dwarf figure in the room was dressed to kill in thick plate armor and battleaxes that could split a skull in half and ask for seconds.

Harry and Rowena followed the king over to table in the far corner. There was a map of the kingdom on the table.

"There are multiple entrance points that these creatures come from; gnolls, trolls, and mages. We have heard reports of large ogres as well, but we have not yet encountered them. We suspect that the main encampment is down this path to the old droxlerite mines. They have been abandoned for several hundred years so what lies down there is relatively unknown to us."

"What of allies? The elves? Goblins?"

"The elves are up on the surface and have their own problems. The blood mages have managed to subvert a large portion of their population. An envoy was sent, but was unable to find the remaining elves as they are continuously on the move. My guess is that their population is even lower than ours and would probably not be of much help. Goblins won't help us unless they stand to profit off it, which they don't."

"And what of other dwarves? Are these folk all that remain?"

"Nearly so. We have several roaming warparties out in the streets. There is also a battalion of 300 fully equipped and trained dwarves posted at the southern steamvaults, where heavy enemy scouting parties have been seem roaming. We have not heard word from them in nearly a week, and it is a good day's walk away. If you could reestablish connection with them and get them to report back to the city, we would have a significantly increased chance of defeating these attacks."

"I have no problem making contact with those troops, and then seeking out this demon. What about you, Rowena? You can come with me, stay here to help defend, or go back up to the surface… I don't want to drag you in over your head and see you get hurt."

Rowena thought about her role for a few moments. "I think my skills could be put to best use here at the citadel. I can create many trap-type spells that can thin out the attackers. Also, having a ranged spell caster like me can be a benefit against the large trolls and even larger ogres, and of course the blood mages."

Harry nodded his approval. "I apologize getting you into this situation, but this is an obligation I feel that I have to fulfill. The dwarves will keep you safe."

They went over the small details of the plan for a few more hours. Rowena started to enchant the ground outside the citadel with various triggered charms and contingency spells. Harry made sure to memorize the map of the city so he could find all the landmarks while flying on his broom.

Eventually one of the Dwarven runners came rushing into the room.

"Report, scout?" The king asked.

"Yes milord. I came from Sergeant Belral's warparty. We ran into a contingent of gnolls in the nearby market district. Larger than any force we have seen so far. Many a troll and several ogre. At least a dozen of those vile blood mages as well. No signs of any demons, but we all know how they like to operate from the shadows."

"Grim news indeed. We need to make contact with Field Commander Falbir's battalion. We need those soldiers here. Very well scout, you are dismissed."

Harry watched on as the scout ran back out and the King turned towards him. "Artemis. Friend. I cannot stress how much we need those troops. My men here are not tireless, and we simply do not have enough. Their forces outnumber us greatly, but my men are far superior fighters. Their plan is to whittle us down man by man until there are no more left. This needs to end before it becomes impossible to recover from."

"I understand. I will prepare myself and head out."

"Good. Just do us all a favor and make it back in one piece. I would much like to share a drink with ye, like the good 'ole days."

"Aye." Harry responded in a gruff voice, imitating the dwarf's.

Harry walked over to Rowena. He pulled her into a kiss which Rowena complied with immedietly.

King Thothic gave a catcall much to the amusement of the nearby dwarves. Harry merely glared at him in response.

"Rowena, if anything happens, if shit starts to hit the fan, I want you to get out of here." Harry took his wand. "I've never done this spell before but it shouldn't be too hard. Portus!" Harry tapped his ouroboros shaped ring, and then handed it to Rowena.

"What kind of ring is this?" she asked curiously as she examined it.

"It was created by my shaman mentor. It allowed us to understand one another when we spoke, as he did not speak our language. It is made of magical bone and magical tree fused into one by the spirits of thunder. Now it is a portkey. Just tap it with your wand and say 'activate' and you will appear back in the Tower in a heartbeat."

Rowena took the portkey and put it on her finger for safekeeping. "Thank You. I will not let you down."

"I know you won't." Harry pulled her into one last embrace as he took out his trusty Firebolt broom.

He mounted it and zipped out of the room at a lightning pace. There was no time like the present to get his task done.

He zipped through the stone streets, occasionally plowing through large pillows of putrid smoke left over from large piles of burnt bodies. He passed many innocent looking stone house and several others with signs that indicated a tavern.

The streets were littered with broken stone, weapons and burnt corpses. It was quite grim.

Occasionally Harry would see movement out of the corner of his eyes. By the time he looked it was gone, and he was thinking it was just his mind playing tricks on him in this environment.

Harry kept following the street until he came across the landmark he was looking for; the statue of Troonga; the famed female Dwarven Reaver. She grasped the equally famous axed named Urur in her hands. It was the very same axe that the Dwarven Kings now claim as their own upon their ascension to the throne. Harry didn't know the full story behind it, but the King did tell him that the axe was taken from a demon much like the one he was going to face now.

He hooked a right at the statue and was now speeding down toward the agriculture district. Harry took a few seconds to look at the fields and was surprised to see that everything was growing on water. The plants have been unattended for several weeks, but he was still surprised that the dwarves used hydroponics.

The road was quite long and it took him over an hour to clear the fields that supplied nearly all of the kingdom's food and beer. Harry suspected that more barley and hops are grown there than actual food, but who was he to say.

Harry's next landmark was to look for the Gimfal Gates, the entrance to this part of the city from the tunnels that lead elsewhere underground.

This part of the city seemed to be nearly untouched, appearance wise at least. His other senses told him a different story though; that something sinister has been this way.

After a few more minutes he saw his goal approaching in the distance. The gates were a set of massive stone carved arches that stretched high up to the ceiling. The stone was some sort of polished granite that shined almost red. Intricate runes much like the ones on the Whurlode streaked up the stone.

Harry closed the distance to the gates. There was no movement at all, and he quickly found the south road he was looking for.

The road turned into a tunnel fairly quickly and soon Harry was in a somewhat tight corridor. It did not take long for Harry to arrive in the southern steamvaults.

Harry looked at the room in awe. In front of him was what he would describe as several hundred, or maybe even a thousand, metal pressure tanks. They powered the massive cooling systems that kept the city from overheating, and were essentially the kingdom's life line. If the steamvaults were destroyed, then the city would slowly heat up and eventually cook them all.

Luckily though, there are 4 steamvaults in total. This is the only one with any men stationed at it though, as it is closest to the attacker's choice of entrances. The other three steamvaults could be destroyed already for all the King knew, but since the temperature in cavern seemed to be stable he concluded that they were intact. That is why the King felt it to be an okay move to withdraw the troops from this steamvault. It was unknown if the enemy even knew about the steamvaults or how vital they are, but it is always prudent to plan for and assume the worst.

Harry looked for any signs of the dwarves but didn't see any at first.

He made his way farther into the room and eventually started to hear sounds of battle. He quickly flew the rest of the distance until he came across the dwarves.

Harry quickly yelled out the friendly call sign "Arrak!" to ensure that he did not get cut down in a fit of friendly fire.

The dwarves turned their attention to him. The leader stepped forward. "Grarrak!" he replied back. "I recognize you." The man said in very rough English. "You be Artemis, the one we built the great tower of Duergen for. I be Falbir, the Field Commander of this battalion"

"Aye. I come from the King. He has not heard from you in nearly a week and thought the worst."

"We have been busy fighting and could not spare a single soldier." He gestured to the large pile of gnoll bodies that were stacked up like a wall. The dog-like creatures were disgusting to even look at.

"The King requested you bring your men back to the Citadel. There is a large contingent of enemies that are approaching and he wants every soldier there to defend. While the enemies are being subverted there, I am to approach the enemy encampment and take out the Demon that is leading these forces."

The dwarf thought about it for a few minutes before nodding his head in agreement. "Ok. I must warn you though, that these tunnels be deep, and dark. I do not believe that Razekial is the true force behind this attack, but rather another pawn. Those mages being here is proof that something else is going on here. Regardless, taking out that demon will be a big victory for us. I wish you luck."

The dwarf then turned to the others. He barked out some orders and soon the soldiers were packing and marching in mere minutes. They set a brutal pace to ensure they made it back before it was too late.

Harry took the time to set up some protections on the steamvault. He did not know nearly as much magic as Rowena, but he could still cast a decent amount of protective enchantments. Repelling charms he knew, but he was unsure if they would be effective against the mages. As an added precaution, he simply filled the entrance in with solid rock.

He apparated back to the Gimfal Gates after he was finished. Surprisingly, he saw that the dwarves were already marching in the distance at a very fast clip.

Harry mounted his broom once more and headed through the gates this time. The old droxlerite mine was down a long abandoned road that dwarves have not travelled in several centuries, due to abundant gnoll sightings and the discovery of another droxlerite source.

The road leading out of the kingdom was another feat of engineering in of itself. It was a road in a tunnel, but it was so much more. Handcrafted and perfectly straight, it went on for miles. The attention to detail was spectacular and various motifs were carved in the stone all along the road. Supposedly the road led to the next Kingdom, several thousand miles away, but there are many smaller fortress villages on the way. There were 8 such roads leading out of Kilgirn itself, leading to 8 other cities.

The conditions of the villages on this road are reportedly not good, as they had been wiped out years previously by the main incursion of the fabled archdemon.

There were many roads branching off as well, in various different shapes and sizes. Some were as elaborate as the main road itself, while others were nothing more than jagged holes. The one Harry was looking for was a small road, and most likely very worn and partially crumbling from years of previous use.

Its entrance was on the right side of the road, an hour march away. There was a supposed to be a post that identified the name of the road, but as he could not read Dwarvish, it would be of no use. However, there was another identifying feature. The post supported a large pink stone to indicate that it was the droxlerite mine. Harry had never seen the stone before, or even heard of it, but the pink color should be an obvious sign.

Harry opened his broom up to its full speed as he soared down the road. There was absolutely nothing on the road to block his path.

He zoomed down the path without holding anything back. It felt great to just open up like that as the air rushed passed him at an unfathomable speed. He turned to look behind him and saw that he was actually displacing enough air to disturb the years old dust and debris in his wake.

It did not take long before he saw a large pink stone rush by him. He abruptly stopped and turned back to inspect it.

The stone was exactly how it was describe to him. It was large and dull pink in color. It was also affixed a wide poll that was inscribed with various runic words of the Dwarven language.

Harry respectfully brushed his hand over the runes, feeling like he should know what it says, but he didn't. He noticed the passageway that was next to the column.

It was about 10 feet wide and high, and very worn. Bits of wall were crumbling in places. It did look like the tunnel had seen recent use, even though the dwarves had not used it for hundreds of years.

Harry cast a strong disillusionment charm on himself as he continued to fly down the tunnel. He sensed faint traces of past magics, all malicious in nature. And there was a faint whiff of something _different._ Something was off and it left a bad taste in his mouth. Something was down in the mine that did not belong.

He carefully flew down the tunnel. The tunnel started to slope down, gently at first, but then become quite steep.

Harry followed this tunnel into the earth what must have been several dozen miles. At this rate of descent he estimate must have been 30 miles vertically underground, and probably getting close to the Earth's mantle if the increased heat was anything to go by.

He was starting to sweat quite a bit so he cast a cooling charm over himself. It was only minutes after that when the tunnel opened up into a massive quarry.

The quarry had a lot of movement in it as Harry flew overhead. Many hundreds of the canine gnolls were gathered in camps. There were possibly thousands of them.

There were no signs of mages, trolls, or ogres. In Harry's mind that only meant one thing; they were all being used in the current assault on Kilgirn.

Still, the sheer number of creatures in this quarry was astounding. And they would all have to die if Kilgirn is to have a hope regaining its former glory.

He scanned the crowds for any sign of a demon. He wasn't even sure what a demon looked like, and as far as he knew they didn't even exist in reality.

Harry was proved wrong in that regards. Perched upon a throne in front of a large white table he noticed a foul looking creature. Even from a distance Harry noticed there was something completely wrong with this creature.

Harry carefully approached closer and saw that the throne the creature was sitting upon was made from bone, as was the table. The creature was sipping a red liquid from a goblet made from a Dwarven skull. The liquid was dark red in color and Harry didn't have to guess as to what it was.

After a few minutes of observation, Harry made one important one; the place absolutely stank. It was a mix of wet dog, death, decay, and garbage.

He tried to hold in a sneeze, but it was of no use.

As soon as he sneezed, all action in the room halted.

The figure standing on the throne jumped up right away. "There is an intruder here!" is what he interpreted the creatures response as.

Harry took note of what he presumed to be the Demon Razekial. It stood about 12 feet tall. It had the legs of a goat and had massive horns sticking out from its grotesque face. Its two arms rippled with rope-like muscle. Its left arm was missing its hand and upper forearm, but instead it was replaced with some metal contraption with a glowing red gem fastened to it.

Razekial picked up a massive sword off the bone table. It was nearly seven foot long and a foot wide, and could probably cleave a giant in half with one swing.

The Demon raised his left arm and the crystal started to glow. Harry could feel the magic pouring off of the thing, and before he knew it his disillusionment charm was dispelled off, leaving him vulnerable to the hordes.

"Kill him!" The demon roared. The hate in the demons voice was universal and did not need a translation.

Harry still had the advantage of his broom. He just had to dodge the spears that were being thrown at him. Luckily, if he could dodge a bludger he could dodge a spear.

The demon was another story altogether. It did not have wings like Harry thought it would, but that contraption on its arm was currently firing globs of molten lava at high speed towards him.

Harry's skill on a broom was unparalleled, and he dodged those flaming lobs with little fanfare.

It was this point of time where he started to rain down his magic upon the masses.

He used his shamanistic abilities to rain fire down upon the horde, literally. He barrel-rolled on his broom while casting blasting and explosion hexes at everything that moved. He felt like an A-10 Thunderbolt just smashing enemies to pieces with his bombardment.

Harry looked behind him and dodged just in time as the demon soared past him. It looked like the demon could jump like a kangaroo.

He continued to spew fire in his wake, but he had to be careful as he was in a confined space and did not want to suffocate himself. Also, travelling at the speed he was and having to constantly dodge, it was very hard to focus his magic on anything other than basic primal fire.

His bombardment was having quite an effect. The gnolls had no way to put out the fires quickly, and it did not look like there was a single gnoll that could use magic. The demon that was chasing after him didn't look to be able to use any magic other than that contraption on its arm.

Harry was looking for the demon now, and it was not hard to find. It tall form could be seen standing in the middle of the quarry, firing a stream of fireballs at him, its sword hanging limply in its other hand and a look of pure hatred upon its face. It grotesque goat-like body was being licked by the flames, but it seemed to be immune to them.

The line of fireballs coming at him prevented Harry from getting close enough to kill the demon. The constant need to dodge all the projectiles was starting to take its toll. By now, most of the gnoll encampment had succumbed to flames and Harry's curses, but such a feat will wear down the greatest of men.

Harry decided to pull an old trick out of his sleeve; the Wronski Feint. He dove steep for the ground. As he was about to hit, he cast a blasting hex at the ground. The resulting blast knocked up a lot of rock and dust, effectively looking like he crashed and the dust had the effect of hiding where he was.

The demon did not know exactly where Harry was now, and kept firing at where he though he crashed. The shots were going about 20 feet wide of Harry's actual location. Harry lifted his wand up and with careful aim, sent the sword cleaving curse right through the Razekial's left arm, severing the launcher from the rest of the limb.

This enraged the demon greatly, causing it to charge at Harry's revealed location in a berserking rage.

Harry saw the demon charging at him with its sword raised high, and mounted his broom once more. He unsheathed his own sword and held it perpendicular to his body.

He sped off on his broom directly at the demon. The distance was covered in mere seconds and before the demon could bring his sword to meet Harry, its body was ripped brutally in two by the oncoming blade.

Harry was immedietly tossed from his broom as his sword met resistance in the demon. He saw the demon was cut straight in half as his sword smashed out of his hands spun off in another direction. His body twisted in midair as he rolled controllably, before he hit the ground and slide for a dozen feet.

He lay on the ground panting for a few seconds before getting up onto his knees. He slowly wiped the blood off of his face as he stood up and inspected the damage.

Harry was slightly worse for the wear, but the demon lay in a smoldering husk at his feet. Harry decided he did not have any major broken bones as he looked for his sword. Without the constant dodging around on his broom, Harry was able to concentrate on the magic around him to prevent the fires from engulfing himself. The only fuels for the fires were the bodies of countless gnolls that could not counter a flying wizard.

Harry eventually found his sword amongst the rubble and he re-sheathed it. He took a good look around. Despite all the carnage he caused, there were _still_ gnolls that survived and were starting to put out the fires.

He decided to do what he thought of doing from the start. He aimed his wand at the ceiling and incanted the most powerful blasting curse he knew. "Propugnaculum igressus confingro." The wand movement was one of the most complex he knew, and it was not something you could just point your wand and say. His wand movements were neat and tidy, but hardly elegant.

The resulting blast ripped through the stone ceiling like tissue paper. Satisfied that he cast the spell correctly, he quickly apparated out of the collapsing quarry and directly into the Dwarven Citadel. He was unsure if he was fit to fight anymore, but he could not spare the time to relax. He had to fight past his exhaustion and join in the fight that was still going on.

He could hear the sounds of a massive battle outside of the doors. He reached out his senses to feel the magic around him. He could feel the runes on the doors and walls taking massive abuse from an outside source, and their magic was draining at a steady pace. He pulled some of that magic into himself and he felt slightly rejuvenated.

He twirled some of the magic around himself and mended a few of his cuts and bruises. The downfall to any healing is that for no explicable reason it seems to be less effective when using it on yourself.

Harry felt better, but he was still nowhere near the top of his form, but it would have to do. He could now walk around without feeling dizzy. He quickly walked out of the main doors to witness the fight that was going on.

All around him were hundreds of bodies, Dwarven and foe alike. He could see the forces were evenly matched, even with the reinforcements of Field Commander Falbir.

He saw that nearly every single blood mage was already dead, which was surprising considering the dwarves were at a severe disadvantage against magic users. They were not completely hopeless though, as they had very advanced runes that used to enchant their armors and weapons.

Harry looked around for the source of the Blood Mages demise. He figured it had to be Rowena, but it was still a pleasant surprise when he saw her twirling her wand around in a rhythmic dance. Her wand kept spewing out a large amount of blue energy balls that zoomed in on her targets and pummeled them with pure magical energy. The energy balls even gave off small explosions as they impacted their targets.

Harry joined in the fray immedietly. He was almost shameful that one of his most deadly combat spells was an invention of Snape's; "Sectumsempra," but it was very effective as it cut sword-like swaths through the enemies.

He made his way over to Rowena and covered her back. She turned to look at him. "Damn Artemis, you look like hell."

"You should see the other guy." Was Harry's clichéd response.

Rowena gave a small laugh before continuing with her steady stream of magic missiles. They did not take much power to cast, but against non-magical enemies they were very effective.

Unfortunately for Rowena, her magic missiles were ineffective against trolls, and the ogres did not even feel them. Harry responded to the large targets with a complimentary blasting curse to the face.

He felled one ogre and saw another in the distance break through the Dwarven line. He saw it strike out against a Dwarf, bat its axe away, pick it up and proceed to squeeze it very hard.

The Dwarf's limbs went limp all at once as the ogre crushed its chest and tossed it to the ground a dozen feet away. The ogre gave out a primal scream of victory.

Harry looked closer at the dwarf, and he was shocked to see the axe Urur in its hands.

"No… No…" Harry muttered to himself when he realized that the Dwarf was his friend King Thothic. He ran away from Rowena toward the ogre. His wand was a blur of movements as he send curse after curse at the large ogre, but the ogre refused to die.

He was within 15 feet of the ogre when he pulled out his sword. Harry put on one last burst of speed before jumping and stabbing the sword straight through the ogres face. Harry's momentum carried him off to the side and in the process twisted the sword out of the ogres face, killing it instantly.

Harry ran over to Thothic. He got on his knees and hovered over the King's body. He saw that Thothic was still breathing, but barely, and his eyes were open.

The King noticed Harry leaning over. "Artemis. I see ye made it." he rasped out. "Your mission….?"

"A success" Harry choked out.

"Good. I'm afraid me body be broken. I am not long for this world. All I ask is that you see this battle through with a victory."

Harry watched down at the dwarf with tears in his eyes. He saw the dwarf's fingers release the handle of Urur.

In his minute of mourning, Harry's magic started pulling the magic around him through his own body. He felt the magic of the land was also going into mourning, but there was a different feeling to it.

He reached out towards that feeling and pulled it to himself, letting it course through his body. On the spur of the moment he raised his palms over the King.

The Dwarven Kingdom's magic flowed through Harry's palms and reached out towards to fallen King. The debris that lay strew on the ground around him started to vibrate from the magical power radiating off Harry.

The magic arced though Harry hands and merged into Thothic's body. The sound of static could be heard if you listened carefully, along with a steady humming sound.

"You won't die on my watch!" Harry said through gritted teeth. Harry's cloak billowed out from behind him as magic kept pouring into the Dwarven King.

Harry gave it his all; it was in the Dwarven God's hands now. He sat back to observe, wiping the sweat off his brow.

Tantalizing seconds passed.

And then he saw it.

The King's hand twitched once, before clasping onto Urur's handle. With a great intake of breath the King snapped open his eyes and sat up.

"I be alive?" the King asked. "I saw Thor himself in the distance. What be this magic?"

"It was the magic of your kingdom that saved your life. I just acted as a channel for it." Harry replied. He held out his hand. The King took it and was pulled up onto his feet.

"I can feel the power still within you." Thothic said.

"The magics of your kingdom are ancient. They would not let their King die before his time."

"Aye. Let's show them what they can do."

"I will show them the might of Thor."

"Yes… The Gods of Thunder will ride once more!"

Almost as if on cue, Gnolls started to break through the Dwarven line. The King stood in front of Harry and cleaved them in half, one at a time. Harry channeled the remnants of the Dwarven magic into a furious thundercloud.

The floor became slick with entrails, blood, and gore as the King showed them some of their fabled hospitality.

Harry unleashed the lightning storm upon the battlefield. Harry wanted it to slay his enemies and the spirits of lightning obliged.

The tall gnolls all across the battlefield got struck down by lightning, several dozen at a time.

The remaining dwarves, seeing the sudden reversal of fortune, gave a united roar and charged and redoubled their fighting efforts.

The gnolls were nearly all dead in mere minutes. All that remained were the large trolls and larger ogres, and the last dozen blood mages that managed to shield themselves from the lightning fury.

Rowena rejoined them after she dealt the killing blow to an innumerable amount of creatures. She seemed out of it, her eyes slightly glassed over with a silvery hue.

"Rowena, you alright?" Harry asked.

"Just fine." She replied in nearly a whisper, hardly convincing anyone. Her bright blue robe was nearly completely black and red from various bits of organs and blood that have soaked into it. She didn't seem to be physically hurt, just mentally.

"Artemis, you better be careful. Those bloodmages might try one last stunt to possess her in her weakened state of mind."

"What do you suggest?"

"That answer be obvious." Thothic laughed in response. "Kill them. Kill them all. Make them regret the day they decided to attack me in my own home!"

Harry once again decided to favor the familiar handle of the Deathstick in lieu of his other options. He wasn't calm enough or in the right state of mind to harness his druidic abilities. The land has seen too much death to respond to him properly.

He took aim at the remaining blood mages who were doing steady damage to the dwarves. The dwarves seemed to be physically resistant to much of their will-bending magic, but their offensive magic was still lethal.

Harry hit the first of the mages with 'confringo' and the resulting self contained explosion was quite gruesome.

Rowena followed up with more of her magic missiles. They arced very wide before zooming in and converging on the target. The mage looked to be unaffected at first but then exploded in a fountain of gore.

The bloodmages attention was now solely focused on them. What they did was completely unexpected though. They all through their hands up in the air, and with a guttural growl, transformed into hideous creatures.

"What the…" Harry said, startled.

"Abomination…" The King said with disgust. "The very opposite of natural. They let their bodies be consumed by the magic in which they worship."

The abominations decided to charge at them, several getting cut down by the other dwarves before they even reached Harry. One abomination actually caught on fire for seemingly no reason, until Harry spotted a runic symbol on the ground discharging its magic into the creature.

"Be careful with your magic around these creatures, friend, for you might see some adverse effects. They are prone to blowing up. A blade is a better option for these."

Harry grasped the handle of his sword, and The King, Urur, but they both turned to Rowena who had nothing.

The King solved that problem by picking up one of the many Dwarven battleaxes on the ground and giving it to her. She barely nodded her head in thanks.

"Stay behind us Rowena."

"Don't be too hasty yourself, Artemis. Their claws be sharp, best not to let yourself get too close either. You do not have the armor that we do, nor the training."

"Alright, I will cover you then." Harry conceded.

"Aye. Here they come!"

The first abomination snuck through the mountain of bodies, and met a throwing axe from the King. Harry couldn't even see where he pulled it out from. The second one met similar fate. The third one made it all the way to the King before being beheaded.

The other dwarves in the area were focusing on the last remaining trolls and ogres, having to multi-team to take them down. One abomination managed to sneak through the side, but the King got that one as well.

If there was one thing for certain in this Kingdom, it was that Kingship was earned. Thothic was an excellent fighter. The King had finesse with his axe that was rarely seen, even for such a brutal instrument of killing. Harry had no flair at all when using a sword and his lack of formal training is the reason.

Harry just got finished crudely ripping his sword through one of the abominations when he heard the King's voice from the side.

"Watch out Artemis, your left!"

Harry turned just in time to see and axe blade slam down through the abominations' face. Harry looked up in awe at his rescuer; Rowena. She smashed into the grotesque creature with all the subtlety of chopping firewood. It is the simple methods that are often the most effective.

What Rowena didn't expect was the gray matter that flew out and coated her body like a balloon bursting.

She immedietly dropped the axe and let out a shriek before falling backwards on the ground.

"Thothic!" Harry yelled to the King, motioning to Rowena. There were no more abominations in their immediate vicinity.

The King turned around and gave a nod. "You get her out of here. My men can clean up. I thank ye for your help and hope to see you again soon."

Harry gave the King a firm handshake before grabbing Rowena and apparating out back to Duergen.

Harry was not a medical expert, despite knowing how to do some healing, but he would have to say the Rowena had some symptoms of shock.

The first thing Harry did upon arriving was to scourgify the majority of the grim off both of them. Even with the Elder Wand, there was so much that he could not get it all off in his exhausted state. Harry went to the bathroom and started up the bathtub.

He removed all of Rowena's clothes and carefully placed her in the bathtub. He collected various soaps and placed them next to the tube within her arm's reach. She seemed to be lucid and an in no immediate danger. He was surprised to see that Rowena was completely clean-shaven given the reputation the Middle Ages had of hygiene and fashion. But after he thought about it he realized that with magic, hygiene became a very simple process. You did not have to dump chamber pots out a window when you could just vanish it. Despite all the carnage that once coated her, it looked like Rowena kept remarkable care of herself, even more than some people he remembered from modern times. He also noticed how small Rowena was, not in height, but in weight. She was thin, but not skeletal thin. Slender would be the word, or maybe lithe.

He had other things to take care of while Rowena soaked. Recovering from overuse of magic is not something you can simply sleep off, unless you fancy putting yourself in a coma for a week. He was feeling weary after all the events today, but he did not feel like sleeping.

The best way to recover after a magical battle is the use of a restorative draught. He went up to the potions room and got to work right away. He had all the ingredients on hand, and it was a quick potion. He had it done in 15 minutes. It was a difficult potion to make as you had to be precise, but oddly enough he did not struggle with it. The only person he would fail by messing it up was himself, so that was all the incentive he needed to get it right.

He drank it down and felt his magic surge right away. It would take several hours before he would be back to full working order, but he wasn't planning on doing anything strenuous as is.

He went out into the master bedroom to get some cloths for Rowena when he realized that she did not have any.

Harry thought about going out to buy clothes, but he figured that it would make more sense for Rowena to pick out her own clothes from a custom tailor. He would conjure something permanent for her, even if it only be used temporarily.

He needed a visual aid though. He head into the black library for a fools hope. He searched through the shelves looking for anything remotely related to fashion, and to his surprise he found several, even one dating to 1993. He tried to figure that one out, and decided one of the girls must have added it to the library after the Yule Ball. He conjured up undergarments from that catalogue, while conjuring up outerwear from the older fashion books. Everything he conjured was styled 1400's and later; another reason to go to a clothier for current era clothing.

He brought the clothes to the bathroom, where he saw that Rowena seemed to washing herself. He put the clothes on the sink before heading off to make himself some food. One of the side effects of the restorative draught was extreme hunger, and couple with not eating anything during the day he was starving, and he was sure Rowena was the same. The question was whether or not the day's carnage would ruin the appetite.

Rowena came out of the bathroom just as Harry finished setting out the dinner.

"Hello." Rowena greeted shyly.

Harry looked up just as she came to the table and his eyes bugged out.

"Thank you for the clothes." She said. "They are all a little tight across the chest though…"

"Oh, uh, sorry." Harry would have to agree. While the robe she was wearing was fairly conservative for the 1000's, Harry could see her chest bulging out the top slightly. "I didn't know your size so I conjured them as best as I could. We can go get some custom tailored clothes from a master in town later if you desire."

"I know I am a thin girl, but not up here." She said while palming her breasts. "Tailored clothes would be nice. I did lose all mine when my house collapsed."

Harry mutely nodded and gestured for her to sit down and eat.

"This undergarment is strange too, but I managed to figure it out. I quite like it actually, I assume it is something from you time? I don't think it fits properly though.

"It is called a brassiere. They are meant to add support, lift, and sometimes used for fashion."

"I see… Traditionally we simply used plain cloth to keep ourselves decent. Supporting the breasts is a foreign idea to be honest. My body is still quite young and firm I feel, lifting is not yet a large concern. I do think this… brassiere is too small as well, these cups anyway."

"I'm hardly an expert at this." Harry replied. He simply picked and average sized one out of the catalogue to conjure. It said 32C on it, but what did he know. He simply had no idea what average was, having no experience in such matters. Yet he saw Rowena naked when he placed her in the bath, so he should have known that she had larger breasts. He chalked it up to self-denial, he hated being anything but average, and he subconsciously applied that trait to other people, even if he had no idea what the average is. "You drank water from the fountain of youth, it is possibly that your body will never droop."

Rowena shrugged. "It does oddly give me a sense of security also… more so than the traditional binder."

"I don't want you to feel obligated to wear it, I simply made mistake in thinking that women in this time wore the same things as women in my time. I am honestly pretty clueless when it comes to these kinds of things…"

"Understandable, given the kind of sheltered life you had growing up."

Not much else was said on the topic of breasts after that, for which Harry was grateful. He wondered how he went from slaughtering hundreds of gnolls in a cavern deep beneath the surface to talking about breasts with Rowena. He was uncomfortable really, he was just shocked at how open Rowena seemed about everything, even after a traumatizing experience. Harry thought that the conversation may just have been used as a distraction from the day, and if that was the case, then it worked.

Rowena excused herself after the meal, stating that she was tired. Harry believed her so he let her go to bed. Harry was not that tired yet so he headed up into the library, determined to finally give the thing a proper look-over.

Before he put the various era fashion books back on the shelves, he conjured several more outfits for Rowena. He honestly didn't know when they would get the chance to go to a tailor, as Harry had to follow up on the blood mage problem, and the possible dementor problem in the forests.

He made sure all the dresses, robes, and nightgown would all be of ample size this time. Along with the various bras he created- this time as 32E, he created several corsets as well. If there was one thing muggles have done right, it is clothing and undergarments. Harry's favorite outfits were several gothic-era dresses he conjured. He thought the black with silver accents would look amazing on Rowena.

His conjurations were very good, but the ability to conjure magical objects is something not even the Elder Wand can do. That was alright though, Acromantuala silk was not exactly a requirement for clothes, but normal silk could be conjured. Harry would not be putting any clothiers out of business this week with his conjurations.

When he was done, it was obvious that Harry overdid it. He had dozens of outfits for her. He just wanted her to be comfortable and beautiful at the same time. The main thing he accomplished, aside for the complete wardrobe, was keeping his mind of the battle he was part of today, and all the enemies he killed.

He knew his cause was just, but that did not change the fact the he killed voluntarily. He knew exactly what Ollivander, or even Dumbledore would say to him right now. "It is the fact that you feel about those deaths, even though enemies they be, that makes you human and not a monster. The day that you partake in wanton killing is the day you lose focus on your task and doom the world."

Harry put the books back on the shelves and decided it was time to take catalogue on what books he actually had. He took out a blank ledger from the main desk along with a quill and started recording.

He didn't get far before he found himself browsing through his books instead of just writing their name and topic down. He had a surprising amount of relevant research books from the late 1800's to the 1960's that were mostly all correct in their fields; physics, mathematics, astronomy, anatomy, biology. There were no truly magic-defying topics such as chemistry or theoretical physics, but rather topics that can answer everyday questions.

It was odd knowing that he had books with proof that the Earth is round, or that the Sun is the center of the Solar System, or even the fact that there are multiple galaxies in the universe. It seemed that even Wizards could be interested in why the earth rotates around the sun with no magic involved. Harry came to realize that not everything can be defined as either Magic or Muggle, there is a middle ground that is perhaps larger than both those categories combined, and that is the natural world.

The first book that caught his eye was the anatomy book, and that was probably because of the breast conversation he had earlier with Rowena. Anatomy was not something he learned in either Hogwarts or Muggle Primary school, as the Dursley's forbade him from attending those classes. They said; "We don't want that freak to know how to breed his freakishness to create more freaks."

Harry extracted himself out of the library after 4 hours having sorted about 100 books. There was a lot to be learned from it, and he realized how much of a mistake it was to have waited so long to even give it a thorough examination.

He realized that he desperately needed to wash, having not completely purged himself of the gore from the day. He was quite amazed at the Dwarven plumbing, even after he had seen the steamvaults earlier in the day. As he was washing himself he noticed that the day was finally catching up to him and his limbs were slowly being overcome with exhaustion.

After he was finished bathing he made his way to the bed and slipped under the covers and next to Rowena.

Right away he noticed something was wrong. Rowena was having a nightmare during her sleep. It reminded him of all the nightmares he used to have and he sympathized greatly. The difference was that he always wished he had someone there for him to get him out of them and comfort him and he did not, at least not the comforting part.

But Rowena had him. He gently shook Rowena awake. "Rowena!" he said in a loud whisper.

She stirred from her troubled dream slowly.

Harry could see the tears on her face and hear her sniffling. "Shhh. It's going to be all right. I got you."

"I… I killed today. The first time in my life."

"It's okay. It was either them or you. Our decision to help the dwarves is the right one, and we must live with that. Think of all the lives we saved today. We saved a whole race."

She didn't seem to be convinced. "I feel so terrible. Like I will never be normal again." She turned back from Harry now.

"You are normal. You are human, nothing will change that. Our emotions are what make us who we are." Rowena didn't seem to hear him.

"Make me feel something. Make me feel better. Please!" she begged. "Make me feel human. Make me feel good!" Her next few sentences were incomprehensible due to her sobs. "Make me forget, please! I want you to make me feel better."

Harry was at a loss. He was never good at interpreting woman's emotions, but it was obvious Rowena felt like shit for what she witnessed today.

"I'm not sure…?"

"Just make me feel good."

Harry held her close and started trailing kisses up her neck.

He placed his hand upon her leg and slowly traced it up until it slipped underneath her gown. His hand continued snaking up her thigh. He was firmly spooned up against her back. His other hand wrapped around her midsection.

His hand reached the junction in between her legs. Both of their breathing hitched at the same time. Harry slowly inspected the outside of her vagina; her labia and clitoris. It was an odd feeling for Harry, something new that he had not yet felt before in his life and could not compare it to anything.

He brushed his hand against her clitoris and he felt Rowena involuntarily shiver. He rubbed up against it once more and then heard her breathing change altogether.

Harry continued to rub her clitoris slowly and it was having an obvious effect on both of them. Harry was becoming quite aroused, but Rowena's arousal was far more evident.

It did not take but a minute for Rowena to give off a low moan. Harry's hand was slowly becoming coated in her juices, but that did not deter him.

Harry picked up his pace, rubbing her back and forth. Before he could even blink an eye Rowena gave off a very load groan of approval, before giving off an involuntary moan of pleasure.

Rowena's breathing was becoming very erratic. Harry felt her muscles clenching as he continued to rub her. His hand was coated slick when she finally reached her climax. All off her muscles spasm as she felt the most intense pleasure of her life, and her first orgasm.

Harry let her cool down a bit before starting again.

Harry moved his hand off her stomach on onto her breast. He couldn't get enough of them. Soft and large, yet he would not call them massive by any stretch of the imagination. They fit her body perfectly and that is all anyone could ask for. Yet in return they were also perfectly proportioned with them being identical in size to each other, and they had perfectly spaced areolas and nipples.

Now that he had a hand on her breast, he felt her nipple harden underneath his fingers. He continued to rub her off for the second time, and within another few minutes she had another intense orgasm that lasted for even longer than the first one.

Harry continued to feel her body rack with pleasure, and in fact she was having multiple orgasms stacked on top of each other.

Neither one of them said a word to each other during the whole exchange. No words were needed. The actions and results speak for themselves.

Harry was in awe at the whole situation. Never with his very own hand could he have imagined that he could make someone have so much pleasure. He couldn't help but also smile to himself. He, Harry Potter, has made a girl orgasm with his very own hand. And Rowena Ravenclaw! One of the most intelligent and beautiful witches to ever live… And she was his!

Harry slowly removed his hand from on top of her folds and rested it on her thigh, her juices still flowing quite a bit. Her breathing finally leveled out after a few minutes, indicated that she was now sleeping peacefully. He even had a small smile on her face. Harry wrapped both of his arms around her midsection and closed his own eyes.

Harry himself fell asleep very quickly as well, being able to sleep soundly knowing that Rowena was at peace. If pleasuring Rowena is what it took to get a good night sleep, then he would gladly oblige. Magic was not always the answer in the end. Sometimes love and pleasure are a greater force than any magic that man can do.

Author notes;

Well there you have it! This chapter came out about twice as long as I planned, but no complaints from me. The story is now over 100k words and I am proud of that. Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone is only like 90k words or something so it really puts it into perspective.

The post battle breast scene was not written to show that Rowena has large breasts (which she has of course, but I am a shallow man while Harry is not), but rather to show that they are capable of holding conversations on a variety of topics by maintaining a neutral and scientific viewpoint. Other conversations like this will pop up, not all sexually related but more about questionable magics.

Can you find all the movie and game references I hid in this chapter? Two hints; one game was (is?) very popular during the 90's and was a forerunner of the FPS genre. One movie reference features Halle Berry and Billy Bob Thorton. I think it's pretty obvious after I say that, even though I think the movie was terrible. The most prominent game reference has enough of them that it could be considered a minor crossover.

For those curious, Razekial is pronounced Ra-ze-ki-al (Ruh-zeh-key- ul)

And also, it is worth mention that Thothic never actually died, just very very close to it.

Next chapter probably will not be as long, but you never know until you start writing. I plan on it being mostly a transitional chapter and chapter 15 being the finale for this part of the story, and then after that the fun stuff begins.

As usual, if you see any glaring grammatical or spelling errors, plot inconsistencies, or accidental POV change, feel free to send me a PM. Everything is self edited several times, and it is possible that I missed something.


	14. Tradesmeet

_Disclaimer; I would warn you that there are scenes of a sexual nature coming up, but I know every single one of you will read it regardless of warning. _

_This story has remained un-updated for 5 months, so I hope this long chapter lives up to expectations and adequately sets the scene for the next few chapters. Just a quick note that the first few chapters have been slightly rewritten as well, but that is to keep the story consistent with the later chapters. The plot has not changed, so you do not have to reread them. It is more to draw in new reader._

* * *

Tradesmeet

Harry woke up in the same exact position that he fell asleep in. His limbs were firmly wrapped around Rowena, almost like a cocoon. His right hand cupped one of her ample breasts while the other was wrapped around her stomach. She still had a smile on her face as she slept soundly. It wasn't the first time he woke up in that position and he hoped it wouldn't be the last.

Harry slowly pulled himself out from the bed, trying very hard to not wake her up. He enjoyed the bed very much, having not used it very much at all being away from the tower for many years.

Harry had no luck though as Rowena woke up within seconds of removing himself.

She gave off in involuntary whimper when she noticed Harry was gone, but quickly smiled when she saw him looking down at her with admiration in his eyes.

She looked down at herself and saw that she was still covered in her own wetness from last night. She was honestly surprised with how much she produced last night just from Harry's hand working her.

It was a completely new feeling for her. Of course she _knew_ about it, but knowing about it and experiencing it are very different things, and having someone else induce those feelings into her was almost unimaginable to her. She had never really taking time off for herself for something like pleasure, or even fun. She enjoyed learning and working magic more than anything else in the world. It was like a giant puzzle to her, and she wanted to solve it. The idea of pleasure was now part of that puzzle.

Seeing that Rowena was awake as well, and unlikely to fall back asleep, Harry scooped her up out of the bed and took her into the bathroom to wash. He let her down as he fiddled with one of the shower controls. He was still amazed at the contraptions the Dwarves have created that are far ahead of their time. Sure, magic could be used to create a shower, but having a mechanical shower was novel.

Back in his original time when he lived in the muggle world, he never thought twice about the conveniences of modern day life, but now, such a thing was a marvel. Knowing the Dwarves, the water was probably pumped several thousand feet up the tower with some feat of engineering that would not be replicated for 1000 years.

That was the difference between Dwarven and Wizard ingenuity. The Dwarves _could _perform the same enchantments as wizards to create warm water right at the nozzle, but they took pride in their work to make something far more impressive. They are not bound by the same beliefs that turn wizards into lazy pencil pushers in the future.

And that is why he admired the Dwarven culture, and defended their home from invaders. And that is why after he finished the shower, he would bring Rowena back down to the Kingdom to help with the cleanup and aftermath.

Rowena seemed fascinated with the various cogs and wheels that controlled the water system and changed the temperature. While she tinkered around underneath the water, Harry was doing some of his own tinkering.

He didn't know what came across him, or perhaps it was merely some of his renowned bravery or as some call it – foolishness, which caused his hands to start roaming.

Her breasts were fascinating, as could be expected. Her back was to him, so the only visual he got was of side-boob, which he did not mind at all. The side profile of Rowena Ravenclaw was very flattering.

Before Harry got too far, he found himself with a Dwarven Crystal container in his hand. There were several dozen of them lining one wall – all scented hair wash of some sort. They were of the quality of type that you would only expect to find in royalty and nobility. The craftsmanship of the jar and the actual product are not something you would see amongst commoners or even wizards. He would have trouble conjuring something like that even with the magnificent Elder Wand.

Harry has not had much exposure to the bad hygiene of the world, but he knew that keeping clean actually improved magical stability and flow. It was the same reason why a keeping a wand in clean operating condition was so important. Wands contained bits from magical creature, and what is a witch or wizard but a magical creature themselves? It made perfect sense to Harry, but the rest of the world had not realized it yet, and likely wouldn't for a long time. The general populace had more important things to worry about, such as feeding themselves and staying alive.

The jar Harry picked smelled nice, but he couldn't identify it. It was probably some exotic wildflower, but the name would be meaningless to someone like Harry. He liked results. The result of washing Rowena's hair was that he liked the way her hair smelled. It was as simple as that.

After Rowena's hair was adequately clean, and smelling good - which Harry is loathed to admit that it took far longer than he expected it to - his hands gained a mind of their own once again. He buried his face in her hair as his hands wormed their way around her torso.

Harry's left hand gentle grabbed her left breast as his right snaked down between her legs. Before Rowena could even protest – which she wouldn't have – Harry's fingers were already playing with her super-sensitive nub.

It did not even take half a minute before Rowena was leaning back into Harry and panting heavily. Not even 15 seconds after that and Rowena was climaxing onto his hand.

"Damn," was all Harry exclaimed as Rowena covered his hand in her juices in under a minute flat. "That did not take nearly as long as I expected."

Rowena slowly gained back her composure and brought her breathing back to normal. "I was not really expecting that. And considering how often I pleasure myself, and that is to say very rarely as proper women don't do such a thing, it is not a surprise that it does not take much effort to make me into a moaning mess."

"Well, most 'proper women' as you put it, are not immortal either. Plus, I'm sure that you enjoyed it. It was fun, wasn't it?"

"Fun?" she said faintly. "I suppose an extremely pleasurable experience could be categorized as fun."

"Good. Because it is almost as much fun for me to make you squirm like that as it is enjoyable for you, and I will keep doing that to you unless you want me to stop."

Rowena saw the sincere look in his eyes, and just rolled her eyes in response. "What about you…?" she asked tentatively, taking a quick peek at his full mast before gasping and averting her eyes.

"I'm not going to ask you do to anything you are not comfortable with. I have lived the past 15 years of my life without any sort of pleasurable experience, I am more than capable of going without it, and making you feel good is more than satisfactory to me."

As Harry said that, he couldn't help feel that that was the corniest thing ever said in the history of man. It was the truth though; he had grown up to be a very patient person. He had more years ahead of him than he could count, and he would not rush into something that could possibly ruin their relationship which had just barely begun. Plus he like the way she reacted to his mere fingers, it was not something he had ever witnessed before and only heard rumors of back in his Hogwarts days.

Harry was tempted to put her through the ringer several more times, but he reminded himself that while time was of no importance to them, it was important to the outside world to which it still effected. The Dwarves were not really expecting him to come back, but Harry felt like it was the right thing to do.

Harry finished washing himself up, and watched as Rowena finished up as well. He could tell that she had never quite washed in luxury like that before, but she quickly adapted. Harry pondered on the idea that this shower was more luxurious than anything he had ever seen even 1000 years in the future. The only thing that came close was the prefects bath and only because that had a hundred magical water faucets. He took a minute to ponder what society would look like if humans adapted the Dwarven technology.

Harry only contemplated for a few minutes before he realized that he could not interfere with something of that magnitude. He was no God, not by any stretch of the imagination. He was a guardian, not a pioneer. He took a quick glance over at Rowena as she was slipping on her chosen clothes for the day.

She, on the other hand, was a pioneer. Rowena did not have his knowledge of the future though, so wherever her mind happened to take the world, it would be legitimate. He was starting to get anxious to see how much the world would change, but he squashed those thoughts immediately.

Harry fumbled around with his clothes and checked to make sure he had all his gear ready. He had to wait for a few more minutes while the Founder was finishing up.

Rowena chose a simple general purpose outfit. It was somewhat flattering, yet could withstand a lot of movement and rough and tumble from any of the day's possible turmoil.

"We are apparating there again?"

"Indeed," Harry responded, holding out his hand.

"When are you going to teach me?" She asked. "I tried researching it, but information on it is nigh impossible to locate."

Harry retracted his hand and scratched his chin. "Now is a good a time as ever I suppose. I've never taught it to anyone before, so bear that in mind."

"What is the first step?"

"My teacher once told me three words to remember; Destination, Determination, Deliberation. The order is not really significant, as long as you remember all three. The first part, and probably the hardest, is complete concentration."

"What happens if I don't concentrate enough?"

"Then there is a possibility of splinching. That is to say, you leave a body part behind. It is not a pleasant experience, and I would rather you not accident lose your girl bits, as I think I am starting to get quite fond of them.

"Yes, well, now I am finding it hard to concentrate…"

"Think of the destination. Closing your eyes should help you visualize. Think of the massive Dwarven citadel doors. Clear your mind and visualize nothing but that."

Harry walked up behind her and placed both of his hands onto Rowena's shoulders. "Now feel for your magic. You know what your magic feels and looks like. Reach out for it and bring it into your body. Now that your magic is within yourself completely, you need to will it to your destination. And since it is your magic, you will go with it."

Harry held onto her shoulders for several minutes without anything happen. He wasn't expecting her to get it. No one gets it in the first try, or even the first week. Harry had an idea though. He was always fond of the hands on approach, and he knew his biggest problem was trying to visual exactly what apparation was.

His idea was to use Rowena's magic to side-along apparate both of them, while he was the controller. It would allow her to feel the sensation of apparation, and what the actual magic feels like during the start, transit, and end. Harry quickly visualized the Dwarven gates, and with a _pop_, the two of them appeared right in front.

"Open your eyes."

"Wow, I did it?"

"Not exactly. You were halfway there, but I acted as the channel. I pushed your magic towards the destination, and we both hung in for the ride. But now you know what the magic feels like. We will do that few more times later, but right now the Dwarves are looking at us oddly."

All around them the Dwarves were bustling around, repairing their damaged city. Immedietly in front of them were the massive doors to the Whurlode. They were battered and worn, but they held up to the recent assault admirably.

Many Dwarves on scaffolding were making amends to the wall, while several others had chisels and hammers, and what looked like magnifying glasses of some sort.

Harry decided to take a closer look and saw that they looked to be re-carving the runes that the adorned the doors. The magnifying glass was highlighting the magic inside the engraving, ensuring the runesmiths did their best work.

Rowena seemed particularly interested by the lenses, but instead followed Harry inside the Iron Citadel.

Harry spotted the King right away. He was looming over what appeared to be several architectural drawings of some of the buildings in his domain. Next to him were several surly Dwarves who Harry guessed to be architects.

The atmosphere of the citadel itself was different that the other times he had been there. The mood was hard to place, but they were hardly the boisterous bunch he remembered. They were not even basking in the glow of their recent victory. Instead, they were respecting the large amount of casualties their already small numbers had suffered, but yet there was a glint of hope in all their eyes. They held hope for a brighter future, and repairing the city was just the start. The sooner they put the attack behind them, the sooner they can move on into the future. But they would never forget the past.

King Thothic was leaning over the table, but when he saw Harry walking towards him his face broke out into a grin.

"Ah, Artemis! The hero of the day!"

"Greetings to you as well," Harry replied as he greeted his friend

"And I see you brought the lovely Rowena as well," Thothic greeted. He took her hand and gave it a kiss before giving a subtle wink to Harry. "So what brings you back to this side of the underground?"

"I feel obligated to help you clean up down here, as I did cause some of this destruction myself."

Thothic nodded his head, having already suspected his reason for coming. "I'm not one to turn down an extra set of hands, especially when I seem to running low of my own. Come over here, and we shall find you something to do."

The three of them walked over to another table that held a long list of assignments. "Hmmm. You won't be much help with actual repair work, no offence to you, but those things require a skilled Dwarven hand. Are you any decent in the art of Runes?"

"I'm not –"

"I am." Rowena said, cutting Harry off. "I have studied runic magic for many years."

"I'm rubbish at runes. I don't know a single thing about them." Harry said with a slight pout.

Thothic looked between the two of them, studying their dynamic.

"Ok then!" Thothic said clasping his hands together. "Miss Rowena can tag along with some of the runesmiths. You will find that our runes are not so different than goblins, or humans, but they are still our own. You may even learn a thing or two. Maybe you can even add some of your own to our protections?"

"I will help in any way I can," Rowena offered.

"Good. As for you, Artemis, I hate to have to do this, but the streets are still covered in rivers of blood and bodies, and smoke still permeates the air. Not all the fires have been put out either, as some are in ruined sections of the city. I need you to clean up the reminder of this mess. We Dwarves would normally have to give the streets a good ole scrubbing, but with a trained wand you could have it done in a fraction of the time.

"What about any bodies I come across?" Harry asked, not pleased with his assignment, but happy to help his friend all the same.

"At the end of this street is where all the bodies of the Dwarves are being kept. We are giving them an honorable burial amongst their ancestors. As for the enemies, just remove all trace of them ever being here and I will be more than pleased. Tradition calls for our enemies to be buried with honor as well, but they did not fight with honor, and thus they will be disgraced!"

Harry was momentarily stunned by the King's vehemence, but he could understand the situation all too well.

"Do you have a preferred area for me to start?"

"The market is already cleaned. I would like you to do the eastern housing district. Oh, and before you two set off on your tasks, I want you to take this… "Thothic started going through his pockets and patting himself down looking for something.

The King turned towards a random dwarf and yelled something in Dwarven that Harry couldn't comprehend.

"What is a 'salvager'?" Rowena asked curiously.

Both Thothic and Harry turned towards her incredulously. "You understood what he said?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because I was speaking in me native tongue."

"What?" Rowena said, astonished. "How could I…"

Harry had a contemplative look on his face. "It must be some sort of magic."

"I have not heard of any magic like this, except for Salazar's snake tongue."

"Somehow you know the Dwarven Language without even realizing it. That is very odd though."

"I would have never noticed if you did not say anything. I thought this whole time they everyone was just speaking our language."

"That is –" Harry then caught sight of something on Rowena's finger. "Hey. That ring. It allowed me to speak with my shaman mentor. Do you think it allows the wearer to understand any language?"

Rowena held her hand up to her face and looked at the ring in a new light. She pulled it off and looked meaningfully at the King.

The King said something in Dwarven once more, and this time neither human could understand it. Rowena shrugged her shoulders helplessly before putting the ring back on.

"Fascinating ring. I have never seen such a thing."

"Sadly, it is one of a kind." Harry replied. He did not miss the glint in Rowena's eye that stated that she would be trying to change that.

"Yes, that is all fine and well," The King interrupted. He held out a small device out to Harry who took it. "That is a salvager. It is a simple runic device that when activated next to an object, it will magic that object to a predetermined location. I think you humans refer to it as 'banishing' or some nonsense. Regardless, it will not work on anything living, be it a corpse, animal, or plant. That makes it a perfect tool for requisitioning all the bits of scrap metal that are left over from broken armor and weapons out in the streets. To activate it, you simply tap the rune with your finger. Think of it as your first lesson in runes. Handy thing, those are."

Harry inspected the device. It was fairly plain, at least by Dwarven standards. It was nothing more than a truncated cone made of silver, with a few runes etched on it. He passed it off to Rowena who examined it in earnest.

"It is fairly simple. The middle rune is the activation, while the others are the target and destination."

"That they are. These are made by apprentices as they are quick and easy to make."

Harry put the device in his pocket while the King bid them farewell, at least for the moment. He pondered the device for a bit and he noticed the similarities between banishing, vanishing, and a portkey. Vanishing is what he would be doing to any enemy bodies he came across. It wasn't much different than the '_scourgify'_ spell either, although on a larger scale.

Harry saw Rowena walk over to the runesmiths, and heard her talking the language via the Ouroboros ring. That ring was now more than just a safety net being her portkey, but now it was a way of communicating.

His task was about as unglamorous as they came, but the Dwarven Kingdom was spread painfully thin. The quicker the mayhem was repaired, the quicker the Kingdom could be operation again.

It did not help matters that they had no spellcasters of their own. It wasn't that Dwarves could not wield magic like humans, but they would not be called wizards or witches. Harry didn't know what they would be called, but he did know that they were very rare, and there hasn't been one in the Dwarven kingdom for over 50 years. With a lifespan of several hundred years, a low population, a very low birthrate of just a few younglings a year, and coupled with how rare being born with magic was in the first place and you had something that most only spoke of as history.

In truth, that was not far off. The very nature of being the only magical Dwarf in a city full of Dwarves puts them in the spotlight for all to see, and on a pedestal that would probably rival the King's. Harry could emphasize with that. A Dwarven spellcaster would almost certainly have very little control over their life.

Dwarven history was very interesting though, at least from what Harry could tell of the generous amount of statues that lined the streets, several of which were once magic users. Dwarves held memories of their ancestor very close to the heart, and it could almost be described as borderline reverence.

The Dwarves still relied on magic heavily during their day to day lives. All because they could cast spells like Harry could, did not mean they were weak. They were masters of enchanting, runework, potions, and several other terms that had no Human counterpart. It also helped that they were heavily resistant to magic in a similar fashion to giants, and they had the knowhow to create magic resistant armor and weapons.

It was in that way they were similar to Goblins and Humans - they were very proficient at melee fighting. But they did have allies. Harry was not the first wizard to ever visit the kingdom. Even as recent as thirty years ago, a few dozen outsiders could be found living in the city at any times. The Dwarves just rarely ventured to the surface in any significant numbers. It was a smart idea to have. If you can't cast magic yourself, have friends who can. Right now, Harry was that friend. He hadn't seen or heard of the Elves since his very first visit to the Kingdom, but he knew they had their own problems at the moment.

But if he was honest, the Dwarves could do a lot worse that an immortal, survivor, jack-of-all-trades, wizard and who the future would describe as one of the most intelligent and attractive witches to ever live.

His task was straightforward and simple, and if he was honest he was quite looking forward to it. During his lifetime, he has rarely every had a day that wasn't extraordinary, and to do something so mundane and boring was not something he experienced very often.

Truth be told, Harry was thankful he got to do a job like this instead of being out with patrols looking for stragglers. He almost saw it as a break, yet he still was doing a very important role for the King. It would probably take weeks to clean the streets of bloodstains, but he could probably do it in a day. It was a win/win situation for both of them.

Harry wasn't surprised at all that Rowena took an immediate scholarly approach when the opportunity to witness some foreign magic was given to her. He was interested in the magic as well, but he just never had the time to delve through ancient magical tomes for new magic, or explore ancient runes searching for some missing link. He hardly even remembered the brief lessons in runes that he learned during his single year of teaching at Hogwarts.

His lifestyle always forced him to have to rely on a more practical approach towards magic than a theoretical one. He had hopes that one day that would change. The one year of teaching at Hogwarts was nice, but it was not ideal. He longed for a time where he could just relax for a month and do what he pleased.

Harry made his way through the stone hewn streets, using the Elder Wand to eradicate the corpses out of existence. Cleaning the blood was an easy task for the wand as well, and the stone looked cleaner than it ever had.

Bits of armor and weapons were scattered all over the place. The Dwarves would probably just melt it down and reuse the base material instead of trying to repurpose subpar quality gear. He would hold the salvager device against the piece of metal, and simply tap the vaguely spiral shaped rune with his finger. The metal would disappear just like that.

The Dwarven bodies were a different story. Some of them were a gruesome sight, mutilated beyond recognition, or simply a puddle of goo on the ground. For the most part their armor was intact, and that would probably be how they would be identified. Apparation was used in those circumstances.

Luck was on Harry's side once more in his life, as his task was very melodramatic and anticlimactic. No falling debris to watch out for. No surprise enemy ambushes. No magical traps just waiting to be sprung when he crossed a line.

He simple did his job, quick, simple, and efficiently as possible. No tales would be told about them and songs would not be sung on how he cleaned the blood off the streets so the Dwarves could go about their daily life without a constant reminder of the near catastrophe.

It did not take nearly as long as he would have though either, but such is the benefits of magic and the Elder Wand.

Harry finished salvaging the last piece of armor he could find from the district before apparating back to the main gates of the Iron Citadel.

He was astonished at how much progress was made. The door looked almost new. The Dwarves were still working on the runes, but where much higher up in the scaffolding. He spotted Rowena peering over the shoulders of one of the Dwarves as the stout figure explained what he was doing.

Thothic was walking around the site of the main battle with a long scroll made of animal skin. He kept peering up from the drawing as he watched the workers bustle about. He peered over the scroll and waved Harry over when he saw him.

"Artemis! Quick and efficient as always, eh? I am in your debt, surely many times over by now."

Harry shrugged off the compliment. "That is what friends are for, right?"

"Aye, friend, Aye. Just name anything you want, anything, and it's yours. It is the least my Kingdom can do."

By now Rowena had climbed down the scaffolding and was holding a metal case full of what Rowena learned are called "spell lens" They were not the same thing that Rowena had been mucking about with for more years than she care to recall, but they were similar. They revealed concentrations of magic, rather than separating them into their bases. In simple terms, they showed how powerful a rune was.

"Just knowing that a magical species is not going to be extinct is enough."

"Fine, Fine, I see there is no changing your mind. Just don't be surprised if there is a statue of you next to our ancestors."

Harry looked slightly appalled at the thought. If worse comes to worse, he could just call in a favor later when he needed it. "I'm sure I'll think of something."

"Alright, but what I have for Rowena… I doubt she would be able to decline."

Harry gave Rowena a questioning look, which she responded with a mere shrug. King Thothic snapped his fingers and from a side room a young Dwarf rushed out holding an ornate looking box.

The King took the box and turned towards Rowena. He opened it, and inside was one of the Dwarven races greatest works of craftsmanship.

Rowena took a gasp of air as she clutched a hand to her chest. "It's beautiful…"

"I want it to be yours now. It is the Diadem of Gimora the Wise, third daughter of the House of Gildar, created nearly 500 years ago, and not worn in over 200."

Rowena reached into the gem encrusted chest with a shaky hand and took the diadem off the cushioning.

Harry had to squint his eyes as both the metal and the gemstone dazzled in the cavern's ambient light.

"It is made of the purest white gold, and set with the finest blue tourmaline crafted in the last one thousand years. It is one of the t Kingdoms finest artifacts, and I want to give it to you, as a reward for your services rendered to the Dwarven Nation.

"I… " Rowena was still speechless. "I accept."

"Thank you, milady."

"No, thank you." Rowena took the artifact and place it upon her head. Immedietly she gasped once more from the sensory overload.

"It is a magical artifact. When wear it, you will find that your mind is sharper than ever before, and your senses keener."

"It is exhilarating, and overwhelming," Rowena responded in awe. "I am noticing details of this column that I would have ignored otherwise… it is like a haze has been lifted off my mind."

"Aye. It increases the clarity in which you see the world. One of my ancestors likened it as a cure to drunkenness. It is that diadem that gave the great Gimora the nickname 'the Wise'"

Harry chuckled at the analogy. Drinking and Dwarves go hand in hand. You had a better chance of finding a drunken Dwarf than a sober one at any given time of the day, but much of their best work is done in such states of mind. It could be compared to how some of the best pieces of music were written while high.

"If I may be so bold as to ask, dear King, will any of your kind be heading up to the surface for the Tradesmeet?"

"It be that time of the year already?" Thothic responded while stroking his beard. "It has been nearly 40 years since any of me men have gone to the surface. Too long, methinks."

"My grandmother once told me about meeting quite a few Dwarves and Elves in the Tradesmeet. That was when I was a kid of course, and she died not long after that.

"We Dwarves used to make semi-frequent trips up to the surface every now and again, but the Kingdom has been in decline for too long. Aye, we will go. I think we need to remind the Humans that we are still alive down here, and of course show off our ale and weapons. We have been forgotten for too long."

"That's the spirit." Harry agreed. "What exactly is Tradesmeet?"

"It is the largest gathering of craftsmen on the planet, and it happens only once a year." The king replied.

"Shopping."

"Oh…" Harry visibly gulped

Rowena swatted Harry's arm. "You'll enjoy it. People come far and wide to trade their goods, even from lands beyond the sea. It is the one time during the year where most have access to exotic goods that you cannot find on this Island otherwise. Some of the best craftsmen, both magical and non, travel far and wide to show off their products, and do business.""

"Alright. It sounds interesting, I'll give you that."

"I do not think I will be able to go personally," the King stated, "But I will make sure the craftsmen that I send to represent the Kingdom are nothing but the best."

Thothic took a second to steal a glance at the Dwarves working around the room.

"Will you two be staying for a meal? While it won't be as festive as you may remember, it is a meal for the workers so it will be highly restorative. And of course there will be more ale than you can shake a stick at.

Harry gave a look at Rowena who simply had an indifferent face on. "That would be excellent."

* * *

Harry apparated back to his tower, Duergen, with a sleeping Rowena in his arms. Apparently the King and him had two very different ideas of what 'not as festive as you may remember' actually meant.

The meal took close to three hours, and by the time hour two rolled around, Rowena was pretty much asleep in her seat. The Dwarves were just as boisterous as ever, and the only thing that was different from the previous meal he had there was the lack of Dwarven women dancing about.

And the drunken orgy with the Elven princess and her handlers that Harry _still_ could not remember.

It was for that reason why Harry didn't get himself plastered. He only had two drinks, an ale and a lager, so he was mostly in control of his facilities at the end of the day. The Dwarves brewed very good drinks, there was no question about that.

He just didn't want to make a scene in front of Rowena.

Of course, he needn't have bothered. She only had one drink, and that was just a glass of wine. Harry missed the smile and twinkle in the King's eye when he was more than happy to oblige. Long story short, one glass of Dwarven wine, while very good, was 5 times as potent as an equal glass of their ale. That combined with the weariness of the day was too much for Rowena and she passed out while laying her head down on her arms.

Harry looked around the bedroom briefly before depositing Rowena in the soft bed. It took a wave of his wand to switch her clothes to her sleeping attire. Harry spent a few minutes in the bathroom before joining her in the bed. He pulled her close to himself before drifting off to a good night's rest as a reward for a good day's work.

* * *

The only thing on his plate for the day was the Tradesmeet. Harry would forget about the roaming blood mages, lost elves, and Azkaban for a few days. It was only a few days after cleaning up the mess in the Dwarven kingdom.

Harry was not sure if he would enjoy the day. He wondered if the rumors in the future that going shopping with a girl was worse than signing a deal the devil, and if they were any less valid in this time period. Rowena was not a very vain girl, and didn't go out of the way to make herself look good, or dress nicely. Not that she needed to. She was a practical girl, much like Harry.

Still, what Rowena had told him about the Tradesmeet seemed fascinating. It was an annual market that convened at London. Thousands of people from across the land would make the journey there every year to try and peddle their wares, hoping to make enough money to last through less fortunate times.

The Tradesmeet has been occurring for many generations, yet it surprised Harry that he was only hearing about it now. But he did know he had lived a mostly secluded life, and he couldn't even tell you who the current ruler of the land was. There was still much to be learned of the non-magic society that was so closely inlaid with his own, but he had never taken heed to it before.

The Tradesmeet itself gave partial reason to why London was starting to become a great city. Over time, many travelers would stop making long journeys, and just settle down in the region instead, setting up permanent shop. This was true for both wizards and muggles.

Wizards and witches of the time are nothing like the ones in the future, but they still had an advantage of those in the past. Floo travel is very limited in nature, and connections to the portal are only in places that receive heavy traffic. You will not find them in remote locations, unless you are someone who knows how to create that connection. Harry was not one of those people.

Only recently had broomstick travel become useful. The brooms of the time were not very fast, but it was still faster than walking. A wheeled cart was still the most common way for a witch or wizard to travel with all their belongings. Knowledge on how to shrink items, make them weightless, and other such useful charms were not common knowledge, but that was in the process of changing.

That is what Hogwarts is for, to spread around knowledge to those who would benefit from it in everyday society.

Harry doubted that most of these people would ever leave the island, and they had no real reason to. It was unlikely that there were other Floo hookups out of country, as Britain has always been one of the forerunners of magical society. It wasn't because there were no other magical communities in France, or Spain, but the reason was of much more practical nature.

It would be too easy to invade other untrustworthy countries if there was such a quick mode of transportation. And the brooms of the day were not even a tenth as fast as Harry's firebolt, and would probably take over a day just to cross the channel.

No, it seemed that boats and horses, but usually just walking, were the common methods of transportation. Apparation was available only to the very highly skilled and disciplined, but wasn't always the case. History has a tendency to repeat itself, but hopefully with the continuation of Hogwarts, knowledge such as apparation will become common just like it was in the pre-Roman era.

Tradesmeet was one of the most important times in the year to many families, not just for selling their goods, but buying as well. While the majority of people are from the surrounding lands, there were some foreigners as well.

It was one of the only occasions where you would be able to find such goods as silk and spice in any large amount. But Rowena was dragging him to the Tradesmeet for a different reason.

When such a large amount of people gather around, it attracts the best of people in certain arts. Master craftsmen, be it tailors, armorsmiths, carpenters, masons - the best of the best will be there.

It just happened that Rowena had a particular family of tailors that she liked to get most of her clothes from, and the Tradesmeet was the most convenient time for her. The family travelled over 100 miles every year to the market, on foot.

Many of the craftsmen use the time to put on demonstrations and performances, to get their names out there into the public. Some of these craftsmen would make more money in the one week of Tradesmeet than they would in three months in their hometown .

But for every crafter, there was an equal amount of food providers and entertainment. With thousands of people coming for one week, farmers from all over also flock to provide food for the masses.

The whole place was sort of a self-sufficient mini city, and it existed outside the Kingdom as well. There were guards, but they were not bound to any king or lord. They were paid for by merchant taxes. Every person at the Tradesmeet paid a fraction of a pence towards the cost of the mercenary guards.

Mercenary may be too harsh of a word though. Just like with the craftsmen, many of the guards were very good at what they did. And just like the craftsmen again, they leave their hometown for one week a year to make more money in that week then they would in the coming month. Many of these men are soldiers retained by various nobles, and even the King himself. It is with nearly unanimous decision that it is their civic duty to protect the masses, and as such, the Tradesmeet has become a neutral ground.

And all this was just the tip of the iceberg. It was something to muse about it, but Harry wanted to see the festivities with his own eyes.

In the few days between his last excursion out of his home, he had done nearly nothing except work with Rowena and her apparation. It turned out she was a quick learner, and Harry was a decent teacher. Of course, he knew both of those already, having taught the DA many moons ago, and a year at the Founder's Hogwarts upon his first arrival into this world. He was just being modest, but he didn't have to convince anyone.

Rowena considered Harry one of the most intriguing and interesting people she had ever met. If he wasn't, there would be no way Rowena would be sharing the same bed with him. Granted, 'nothing' had happened between the two of them, yet, but the possibility was definitely there. She had no qualms about giving her long saved maidenhood to the man she genuinely liked, even if he was a bit different than the rest. She just wanted to wait until the moment was right and their lives less hectic and revolving around hunting evil wizards.

Harry was actually letting Rowena side-along apparate the two of them to the Tradesmeet. She must have apparated nearly a thousand times in the past few days, so he knew she would not fail. Failure was never an option with Rowena. Temporary setbacks, yes, failure, no.

They arrived with a modicum of air displacement from Rowena's calm and focused apparation.

"That was very good. Maybe even better than what I can do," Harry told her with a grin.

Rowena turned her head and made eye contact with Harry. "I'll never be able to go as far as you though. I don't have nearly the amount of magic at my disposal as you do, or the control."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that…"

Harry noticed that Rowena was simply staring at him, unblinking. He saw he subconsciously blow a stray hair out of face, and he couldn't help but marvel how attractive she was. There was not a single blemish on her face, but her hair was done in more of a practical manor than a decorative. Harry found himself leaning forward, and before he could stop himself, his lips met Rowena's in a gentle kiss.

It was soft, and delicate, yet very special. He was hardly an expert kisser, and Rowena's experience was probably even less than his. Yet still, their clumsiness worked in their favor as they both realized that there was some serious chemistry going in between them, and they were going to discover their relationship together.

Harry pulled back from the gentle but promising kiss after half a minute. He saw Rowena was still staring at him, but with a pleasant smile on her face.

Harry realized it was probably the first time that he had seen Rowena with a serious smile on her face, and that thought alone put a smile on his face as well. To think he could bring such joy to a woman such as her made him ecstatic. He wondered if that is what it is like to be in love.

But love was such a foreign word to him. He had never known love, not since he was a year old. He had gone so long without feeling any kind of emotion even remotely close to being called love. His meager dating phase in Hogwarts was simply him trying to fit in like a regular teenager, but love rarely happens so young. He felt attraction to various girls over the year, maybe even harbored a crush or two, but never love. Harry has liked someone for being intelligent, found someone physically attractive, and liked someone because they were fun to be around.

Harry then realized that Rowena fit those three categories and many more besides.

Harry linked arms with Rowena and they walked into the beginnings of the Tradesmeet. Harry looked around in awe, but only after one last parting thought about the burgeoning relationship.

There were some simple facts about history. The truth of the matter is that in the long list of people that Harry could potentially have gotten involved with, Rowena Ravenclaw would be at the top as the most unobtainable person. It wasn't because she was perfect – no one was. She had as many flaws as the next person but the rest of her more than made up for them and you would forget about them right away. Harry would compare the probability of his relationship with Rowena on the improbability scale as roughly the same as him marrying Princess Diana.

Harry has always been good at turning impossible odds into a 50/50 chance and coming out on the winning side. He couldn't help but feel that he hit the lottery. Rowena Ravenclaw was the top of the metaphorical food chain, and there just was simply no woman higher. Not in the mortal world at least.

Harry finally cleared his mind of all the foreign feelings and errant thoughts. His eyes widened as he saw what had become of the normally subdued town of London.

Harry could see wooden carts and temporary stands set up for as far as he could see. There were a few stone structures mixed in, but not many. The main bulk of London was surrounded by a palisade wall, but a gap had been created to connect the city with the sprawling market that was now taking up much of the country side.

There first thing Harry noticed were a pair of guards suited in glimmering coats of chainmail. Each guard carried a kite shield with a sun embossed on it instead of a tradition motif or coat of arms. They also each carried a halberd as well as a sword strapped to their side.

They were very intimidating and looked to be very highly trained if their posture was anything to go by.

Harry clung onto Rowena's arm slightly tighter as they walked through the entrance. Harry could see the guard's eyes through their visor inspecting them, but he also saw the minute nod of their head indicating their approval.

Harry's jaw dropped when he fully saw how many people congregated on the field. All around him people milled about, looking for the best dealer, or a potential customer.

Entertainment came in many forms, including dancing, mock fighting, beer drinking, tests of strength and skill, and several more seedier ventures.

Guards patrolled in groups of three, keeping crime to a minimum. Their presence was much appreciated as the looming figures were seen as much needed safety.

They weren't all-seeing though, as Harry saw a pickpocket nick an elderly mans coin purse and run in the opposite direction. The kid looked to be dressed in rags and had very long, greasy, dirty hair. He disappeared into the crowd, but not before seeing the robbed man was wearing many gold necklaces and bracelets.

It was not Harry's duty to play law enforcement, so he continued on. Petty thievery was a fairly common occurrence during the time period, and nothing Harry could do would change that.

Harry and Rowena stayed in close contact with each other as they walked down the first makeshift path. It would not do to get separated in the busy market. Rowena seemed to have an idea of where she wanted to go, or perhaps she just had a better understanding on how the place was laid out.

Either way, it only took a few minutes before they were standing in front of a travelling cart and Rowena was speaking rapidly to the owner of it. He realized this was the clothier she was looking for. The man was rather unimpressive. He was very old, probably in his 70's. He was about to wonder how he managed the trip by himself but that was before he saw what guessed was to be several sons and grandchildren going about various tasks.

Rowena seemed to be in deep conversation with the man who was scribbling something down on a piece of parchment.

Rowena was dressed casually in practical clothes. That is all he ever saw her wear. She did not wear any of his conjured clothes. He did not really blame her. They were foreign and she liked the current style, no matter how bland they seemed. No style of muggle clothing lasted any significant amount of time. Wizarding clothing was another story.

But if Harry was honest with himself, he didn't care. Anything she wore would make her look good. He found his mind quickly wander as old man started talking shop with Rowena. They were talking about quantities of this and that, but Harry was too busy watching passersby and the armor maker across the way.

Harry stayed out of the way as Rowena was attended to by an elderly lady taking her measurements. It was a boring process. Cloth making has remained much the same, the only thing that has changed over the years is the materials and the process of making them.

Before he knew it, Harry found himself walking about 20 feet to the nearby armorer. This little 'shop away from home' had a cart as well, but connected to it was a 15 by 15 fenced off area where the man was currently working and showing off his skill.

Several other people were watching as well. They seemed to be peasants, if the smell coming off them was any hint. Their clothes were various shades of brown and grey. He couldn't tell if that was their original color but they were well kept signifying that these people cared about their material possessions. This kind of person was the most common in this marketplace, but Harry had already seen several rich merchants walk by as well.

And then there wer the craftsmen, like the man in front of him. There had to be hundreds here, all with varying degrees of skill, ranging from master to con artist. All the shoppers were equal in their presence.

Harry watched in fascination as the leather craftsmen kept dunking the leather in a vat of boiling water. He could see the flames flickering from underneath the metal tub and the smoke rise up into the sky.

Harry wasn't exactly sure the purpose of the boiling water, but maybe it made it soft and pliable? The craftsmen then took the leather out of the basin and started stretched it over a form of sorts. It looked metal to Harry, but it could have been wood as well or even bone. Harry could slowly see the leather taking shape as gentle curves were formed into the leather. Judging by some of the completed works that were on display, they were chest protection.

While leather wasn't the strongest of protections, it had good wear resistance and decent cutting protection. Of course, that is ignoring sharply honed blades and arrows. Leather armor was good for most general purposes, but it was mainly used for its durability and easy maintenance. Leather armor from magical creatures on the other hand was a completely different story. The leather and hide from creatures such as dragons, basilisk, or even a nundu were very resilient due to the power of the host creature. Scale armor was another thing altogether, but similar to metal armor.

But this craftsman was as muggle as they came, and that made his work even more impressive. He had to regulate temperature manually, as well as use his own bulk to form the leather to the proper dimensions. He even fitted up the buyer himself, adjusting the lacing as he saw fit. All the finished pieces had a crest emblazoned on them; the trademark of a master craftsmen. The more people who knew your name, the more powerful you were.

Harry was impressed by the work because he knew he would never be able to make such a thing, at least without many years of practice. The man was good at both soft leather and hard leather armors, and even had a few lamellar hybrids as well. He did notice that most of the armors were for males (or perhaps flat chested woman) but he did notice that a few of them had more… robust fronts for the more _endowed_ woman. He couldn't help but imagine what Rowena would look like wearing one, and he decided that it was a very nice image. He doubted that that Rowena would ever wear something like that… at least in public like the tavern wench girls do.

Harry watched for a few more minutes as another man came out from behind the cart holding a half dozen pre-prepared leather 'blanks'. They were already trimmed to manageable size and already had a generic chest molded into them. All they needed were the finishing touches and fasteners. The master craftsman was just finishing lacing a customer's new leather chest piece. He clapped the man on the back and pointed over to where the journeyman was working, presumably for payment.

The immortal wizard just realized that he had been watching the craftsmen for probably close to two hours. He figured that he should probably go check on Rowena… curse Morgana if anything had happened to her in his negligence. He was just turning around when he saw the girl in question was walking towards him, with a huge smile on her face that could only be the result of successful shopping.

He was right.

The first thing Harry did was look around her for any signs of her purchase, of which there was none. "So, where are the clothes?"

"It takes time to make them." She laughed. "They will be done tomorrow. Three of his grandchildren will work through the night to fill the order."

"Through the night? That seems kind of extreme."

"He has 11 grandchildren involved in his shop work. This is an extremely busy period for many craftsmen, and they will work over time to make the big money."

"So exactly how much clothing is he making?"

"Oh, it is a surprise." She said with a wink. She was obviously unused to the gesture, but it was still cute. "He is one of the best here, and he does not hold back when using exotic materials, such as silk."

"Silk?" Harry gulped. "Expensive stuff. Luckily I have more than enough money to spend on rare, foreign materials."

"I'm sure you'll appreciate it just as much as I will." Rowena replied. Harry was not exactly sure what to make of that statement.

Rowena molded herself to Harry as they walked away from the currier. The next closest craftsman was about 100 feet away. They tended to take up corner spots so as to get a large a ground as possibly when putting on demonstrations.

In between the craftsmen were many other types of stalls and temporary buildings. Quite a few of them were the wandering merchant type who dealt in custom orders and random trinkets. Gold, silver, and less precious metal rings and necklaces were a large trade. You also had to be extremely careful or knowledgeable that you did not get swindled. Gold might not be gold, and silver might not be silver.

They ignored these traders for the most part. It would take too long to go through the muggle rubbish to possibly find a good deal, or occasional magical trinket that the trader was unaware of.

As they passed a set of uniformed children sweeping the smooth dirt path and depositing rubbish into a bucket, a crowd was forming in front of another craftsman's stall.

"Want to see what the excitement is all about?"

"Alright." Harry complied.

Rowena tugged on his arm and led him over to the booth. It took only a little bit of subtle and passive magic to find themselves in the front of the crowd to watch the master craftsman work.

The fact that the man was a master at his profession was easy to see. The man moved with a grace that only came from many years of experience.

In front of him on a makeshift wooden table were dozens of glass products. They were in many shapes and sizes, as well as color and use. Harry could tell instinctively that the collection of fine glassware in front of him was very expensive. Glass in the current age was a luxury. Usually only nobles and royalty could afford glass, but Tradesmeet was the one time of the year that prices were reasonable where a lower class man could afford a nice piece that would be a centerpiece of a home.

In the current day, glass did not have much of a purpose beyond decoration. It was not widely used as a container. An alehouse would use much cheaper materials for tankards such as silver, pewter, clay, or even wood.

Harry had seen such a thing only an hour ago. It was a bizarre thing to see if he was honest with himself. There were several… well he wasn't sure the proper term. They were large burly men, and they walked around Tradesmeet with two small casks – one under each arm with straps. They also had a necklace of sort with hooks on it that they carried cheap metal tankards with the proprietor's crest on it. They walked around and sold drinks and generally acted as a form of advertisement. It was quite amazing.

But back to the view on hand. Harry and Rowena observed the glassmaker putting on a show. He had two assistants who did trivial things, such as answer questions about the work and help with simple tasks. Harry observed the master carefully control the temperature of the glowing furnace.

The man then took a hollow rod and stuck it in the furnace, gathering a decent sized chunk of molten material on the end. Harry assumed it to be glass, or the base material of glass. Both him and Rowena watched on in awe as the man started blowing through the pipe. The ball of molten metal glowed hot from the forced air and slowly expanded.

The man then started twirling the rod, making the material push off to the sides. He then blew into the pipe again to keep the molten glass hollow. The man started spinning the glass again, this time like a baton to stretch the glass vertically. The man repeated this several time until he had a nearly round glass sphere.

The man then took some powder from a clay container on hand and gently sprinkled it onto the glass. He repeated the blowing and twirling process a few more time intermingled with have to reheat the glass a few times as well.

Finally it seemed liked it was almost finished and no longer glowing hot. The master glassmith placed the tube on the table, so the hardened glass tangled over the edge, parallel to the ground. An assistant came over with an obsidian knife and carefully held it on the rim of the globe, near where it joined with the tube. The craftsmen deftly rolled the tube while the assistant held the knife firmly to the glass. Once the notch was complete, all it took was a careful knock and the assistant was holding the finish product in his hands.

The master took the round vase from him and started inspecting it. It was a mixture of clear and dark blue glass. Rowena was very impressed, and even Harry would admit it was a pretty piece of art. The master took some tools and applied careful finishing work to the piece by smoothing off the rough cut. When he was done he placed the glass on the table next to the others.

The man took a bow while the onlookers clapped at the performance. Harry and Rowena felt compelled to clap as well. The man then went to a corner where an assistant brought him a drink and towel. He wiped down his forehead while guzzling the ale. It was very hot where they were standing, Harry couldn't imagine what it was like next to the forge.

"That was quite impressive." Harry remarked.

"Indeed. It is no wonder why his work costs so much and desired by many. Magic could not even make something like that, not without many years of practice."

"The things that people can do without magic have always impressed me. You will find yourself amazed in the years to come. Things you cannot even imagine. Things that I can hardly imagine now and I actually lived through the times."

They stood and gazed around for a moment longer before Harry finally took in the detail of the vase for the first time. One part of it was blue, but in the blue tint he could clearly see some markings of clear glass, almost as if someone had written something on the side.

He went and got a closer look, and nearly jumped back in surprise when he saw that what he thought were words, were actually a series of _lightning bolts_ similar to his once famous scar. Harry's eyes opened comically before he decided that he must own the work.

Before he even realized it, he was haggling with the glassblower over a price, and several pounds later, he was the new owner of the fine piece of art. Rowena just watched on in amusement as Harry clutched onto the piece of glass with lightning bolts all over it as if it were a newborn baby.

Rowena simply smirked at Harry's antics, not saying a word as Harry glared at her. She was half tempted to buy the piece of art herself, and was surprised to see Harry buy it without her prodding. She watched as Harry pulled out his wand and tapped the sphere a few times. It disappeared from his hands.

The witch raised an eyebrow at this. "What magic was that?"

Harry smiled at her constant curious nature. "An indestructible charm along with a portkey. Usually portkeys don't work on inhuman material, but with this wand, small details like that are not a big deal. Plus, it helps that I know it is actually possible, since the Dwarves do have those devices that did much the same thing. So it should be waiting for us in Duergen when we get back."

Rowena looked at him strangely for a second before showing him a surprised smile. "Has anyone ever told you that you are smarter than you look?"

Harry chuckled. "No, but I could get used to it. I think you are rubbing off on me already."

"Well, last night you rubbed me off quite a bit…" Rowena could help but blush, not believing that she said that.

Harry was surprised at her sudden display of cheek. Rowena was always full of surprises; that was just one of her good features. Not that she had any bad ones…

Harry linked his arm to hers, and they walked off towards the next stall. The path they walked on had none of the trinket dealers like the previous one. This one was filled with nothing but metalworkers.

Wrought iron, swords, armor, shields, and several that made items not used in warfare.

"Do you think one of Thothic's Dwarves will be here?" Harry asked. They had yet to see any, either smiths or brewers.

"The King did say that there would be. They shouldn't be too hard to find, don't you think? They are quite short after all?"

As it turned out, Rowena was wrong in that regards. It took them nearly an hour to find the Dwarven smithy. There was a group of 4 of them, and they blended in with the other smiths very well. It was only after checking twenty stalls did they finally find the King's men.

The burly beards and large muscles did not stand out amongst the human smiths who were of a similar build. It was only when they got up close did they discover them.

It was through a bit of clever engineering in how they were hiding. The floor to their stall was actually about a foot high off the ground, making them seem normal height. It was done in such a way that you would never notice it either, but Rowena was very perceptive.

Harry briefly thought on how he could get their attention without arousing suspicion with the other bystanders. He remembered back to the fighting he partook in just a few days ago.

"Arrak!" he called out.

Immedietly all 4 Dwarves turned around and greeted "Grarrak" in return.

The smith seemed to know some of the common Human language, at least enough to communicate with Harry. Rowena still wore his ring, and while he could have asked for it back, that would seem inappropriate in his mind.

"Ye be the one they call Artemis, aye?" The grizzled Dwarven smith asked. He was clearly the most experienced amongst the 4, but he can tell none of them were what you would consider a novice or apprentice, and most likely master smiths in their own right. The Dwarf in front of him looked ancient, but definitely not fragile. His white hair and beard were braided, and his muscles rippled with strength. Years of toiling away in a super heated forge and working an anvil had hardened the Dwarf into a fearsome figure.

"That be me," Harry acquiesced. It seemed that whenever he was around Dwarves he subconsciously shifted into their way of speaking.

"Then it be me understanding that it be this lovely lady's idea for use to show off our crasftmanship once more in the land of men. And for that, I thank ye." The Dwarf gently kissed Rowena on the back of the hand and have Harry a firm handshake.

"I'm glad to see the kingdom is trying to make a comeback after all the fighting."

"Your sentiment is appreciated," the Dwarf replied before turning to face the other three. "Alright boys, lets' show these folk what we are capable of. Just to show that we are serious about our work, we will use good 'ole steel and nothing else.

One of the Dwarves went over to the large forge and pulled out a chunk of glowing hot metal with a pair of tongs. He placed the chunk of metal down on the large anvil in the middle of the enclosure.

All at once the Dwarves pulled out hammers and started pounding the chunk of steel into a flat bar. The amazing part is how their worked in absolute synchronization. Dwarves one and two hit the heated metal at the same exact time, followed by Dwarves three and four.

And they worked fast. Very fast. They hammered the metal far faster than their human counterparts, and much more accurately as well. Their speed belied their age and size.

They managed to get the metal down to nearly half an inch thick before it had to be reheated. Harry spied runes carved on the forge and the metal heated up much faster than would be normal.

And they pounded the metal some more until it was about a tenth of an inch thick. Harry wasn't exactly sure how swords were made. He vaguely knew that Japanese did some sort of folding technique, or perhaps it was hammer forge welding, either way he wasn't sure.

The Dwarves techniques clearly brought a lot of low murmuring amongst the watchers, which included some of the other master craftsmen as well.

The lead Dwarf held the metal on edge with a set of hand vices and the other three pounded the two inch wide blade down until it was flat once more. Then they reheated it and repeated that process several times, pounding the metal from vertical to horizontal.

The master, or perhaps grandmaster was the right term, then took the sword up and inspected it. He muttered something in Dwarven and the other three immedietly set about adjusting the furnace and a basin of water.

He then turned towards the audience and spoke for the first time during the show. "The trick is to heat it up very hot, nearly molten, and then slow cool it in the air. Then you heat it up half as much, and then cool it fast in water. This changes the metal structure from being hard and brittle, to being hard and ductile."

His tip seemed to bring a strong amount of disagreement from the watchers. One of the Dwarves came over and joined in on the debate, which was frankly out of both Harry's and Rowena's knowledge range, so they both settled to watch the grandmaster finish the sword.

The cooling process took some time, but like any prospective businessmen who were proud of their work, they showed off many completed pieces of work and several deals were formed right there on the spot. They had lots of fine work with them, and not just weapons either. Plate armor and chain mail was amongst the goods. The presence of high quality plate armor alone was enough to tell the watchers that these smiths were the real deal. Their armor was probably higher quality then what even Human kings possessed. That was partially due to the fact that the grandmaster is the one who had made King Thothic's armor himself.

Eventually the sword was finished and sharpened and the handle was wrapped in a basic grip. They did not bother with a hilt, stating that the sword was for demonstration purposes only.

"I guess ye all watch to see the strength of our forging process? Yes? Fine then. I have here several swords, bought from this very market only a few hours ago. Several be steel and several be iron. This one, for instance be a steel sword."

The Dwarf took the steel sword and placed it across the two foot gap between the railing and a table.

"Watch how it snaps with nothing but me weight." The Dwarf then simply put one foot on the steel blade and it snapped under his weight.

There was more murmuring amongst the crowd at this. There was general agreement that most sword would snap like that.

"Watch how strong our sword is. See how our forging process is superior," the Dwarf said. No one has ever said that Dwarves are modest. He proved his point though by standing on the newly made sword in the same manners as the last one, and it failed to break. It hardly even bent.

"If ye think that be impressive, ye ain't seen nothing yet! Grimlock!"

The Dwarf named Grimlock came forward holding one of the finely made iron swords, a human made sword.

Without warning, the grandmaster swung his sword at Grimlock, or rather, the sword Grimlock was holding, but the sword was neatly cut in half effortlessly. The crowd was stunned into silence. Grimlock swung the remains of the iron sword at the grandmaster, but the sword cut itself in half again, this time edgewise. Murmurs of awe swept through the crowd.

"That was our steel versus plain iron. How about some steel verse steel? Grimlock, again!"

This the result was much the same as the Dwarven made steel slashed through one of the finest Human swords in the market. The crowd was now actively clapping, and the applause only got louder when the sword chewed through a piece of armor as well.

"Would you all be surprised when I say that this is just a sword of average quality compared to what else we can make?"

The crowd was now confused, saying things like "impossible!" and the like. Harry just watched on with amusement as the Dwarves messed around with the humans.

From a weapons rack hidden in the shadows, the grandmaster unsheathed a glimmering sword. Harry could instantly tell that this was one of the Dwarf's masterwork swords, made of an exotic metal that the humans did not even know about.

"This sword just be a sample piece for this demonstration," the grandmaster stated, indicating the steel sword. "This be a real sword."

The crowd oooed and ahhhed at the magnificent sword. It looked as if it was faintly glowing with silvery light, and knowing the Dwarves, it probably was.

"Behold a true weapon!" Grimlock was holding onto the steel sword, fully knowing what was about to happen. With a great heave, the grandmaster slashed down with the sword, cleanly cutting the steel blade in half. The crowd gave a mighty roar in surprise. "There ye have it! A true master piece. Does anyone think they own a blade that can match the might of our work?"

Immedietly several challenges went up through the enraptured audience. The people would not pass up an opportunity to test their own work against their unnamed rivals.

A sort of festival within a festival occurred as many of the smiths brought out several of their best works. Drinks started flowing as beer wenches and kegmasters started walking through the crowds. They would not miss an opportunity like this. The disguised Dwarves had amassed quite a crowd.

One by one, smithies started pitting their swords against each other, non-threateningly of course. They would try to take on the Dwarven sword, fail, and then pit them against another rival craftsman. It was all in good fun and entertaining more than it was a scientific battle of wills. Well for some it was, for others it was the equivalent to a pissing contest, or for the more crude, a dick measuring contest. And that made it all the more fun.

Even Rowena seemed to be enjoying the impromptu contest, and she was laughing at some of the antics. Hell, it looked like everyone was having a good time. Harry realized that really only three things were needed for these simple folk to have a good time; women, beer, and competition. All of which there was now. Then again, that recipe for a good time does not exactly change during the centuries.

Close to an hour must have passed, and the Tradesmeet was even more boisterous than ever. Ale flowed freely, and the women more carefree. Half the beer wenches or more were probably prostitutes as well, but Harry held Rowena firmly on his arm and none of them even came near him. He was good looking, but he was also intimidating.

The showing off of prized masterwork weapons was coming to an end. They did not just fight sword against sword. Bits of prop lay everywhere, fruit, chunks of wood, and even straw training dummies lay scattered about. Young boys and teenagers ran around cleaning up the mess as the grandmaster Dwarf yelled out to the crown once more.

"Any last challengers? You have all seen our superbly crafted blades! Are we so revolutionary in our work whereas not a single blade remains unscathed? Is there not –"

"I will." Harry announced. He decided he had the right to have a little fun as well, having just watched all the previous preceding. After all, he was not a smith by any imagination.

The Dwarf didn't seem surprised. He actually looked amused. "Well then, if ye show me yours, I'll show ye mine!" The Dwarf let out a tremendous bellowing laugh and the crowd responded to his obvious innuendo with their own.

Harry unsheathed his sword – the once famous sword of Godric Gryffindor as it was known in his original time. Now it was his. The once silver blade was now completely black- simply for aesthetic reasons. Very powerful magic was imbued in it, and according to goblins it is goblin made, but they could have just been trying to claim something that wasn't theirs.

He held his sword off to the right. He would never claim to be an expert with it, but he has had quite a few years under his belt with the sword.

The Dwarven grandmaster smith held his off to the right as well. And with a nod of their heads they swung. Both swords slice through the air horizontally with enough room in between the two to make sure neither would get hurt.

The swords met in the center with a thunderous clash. Sparks flew in both directions and a blinding white light friendly flashed the entire crowd. The swords merely deflected off each other, and it was unclear which sword had shed the sparks.

That fact that both swords were still whole brought the crowd to applause. Most of them respected a well built weapon, as it was a livelihood for many.

"Again?"

"Again." Harry confirmed.

Once again they swung their sword through the air, except this time there was a clear winner.

A large thunderous sound echoed through the air, along with a current of static electricity as the Dwarven sword shattered into many pieces.

It took several seconds for it sink in before the crowd started cheering. They were cheering him on simply because he had taken down who they all though was untouchable.

Harry met the still unnamed grandmaster in a handshake, and the Dwarf replied with a "Good show lad."

Harry sheathed his sword and gave a bow to the crowd. It seemed like the proper thing to do. The crowd would probably talk about if for the rest of the night. Tomorrow would be a whole new day, with a whole new batch of excitement. But now it was getting dark out.

The grandmaster pulled the two of them off to the side for a minute. "I can't thank the both of ye enough. You've done more for the Kingdom that you think."

"How so?" Harry asked curiously.

"We have already gotten 19 orders for our weapons. Most of them are just small deals, but we have been contracted for a 100 weapon deal with an emissary for the Human King. Word is there has been a lot of Viking activity in the recent years, and they want to be prepared for the next incursion."

"Vikings?"

"Aye. Big burly foreigners with a penchant for blood, ale, and women. Guess that is not descriptive enough. Heh."

Harry looked at Rowena for more information. She obliged. "It has been mostly a non magical war. The council has defended any magical attacks adequately. There is nothing that either one of us has to do personally, unless they decide to attack your land."

Harry struggled with that in his mind for a few seconds before acquiescing. "Alright. No heroics from me this time. I still got my own agenda to finish first."

"Right. Nasty blood mages." The Dwarf replied. "All they need is a bit of your blood and then they have complete control over you…"

Harry turned to Rowena. "It's getting late. Want to head back?"

"Fine by me. Plenty of sights left to see during the rest of the week."

They said goodbye to the Dwarves before finding a secluded spot and apparating away back to the tower.

It was quite late when they arrived back, but not past midnight. The surprising excitement of the day had made him quite tired, but not overly so.

Harry secluded him off in the corner of his armory and took a few minutes of his time to inspect his sword while Rowena got ready for bed.

The sword was still impressive. The Dwarven grandmaster did not think it was Dwarvish, and Harry didn't think it was goblin-made either. The black blade did not bear a single mark or scratch at all. There was not a single sign of damage or a nick on the blade from clashing with the Dwarven mithril sword. It was a highly magical sword, but anyone could also see it was of a very high quality make.

Harry did a few practice swings in his customized form. The blade was light, strong, and essentially an extension of his body, just like his wand. That is exactly what it should feel like. He nodded with satisfaction and starting undressing himself.

He arrived back in the bedroom with just a pair of undershorts on.

Rowena was already settling in the bed wearing a simple nightgown. Simple might be an overstatement as Rowena hardly needed anything fancy to look her best, even when sleeping.

In a quick movement, Harry was under the covers and sliding up to Rowena. He wrapped himself around her and she accommodated him by sliding her back to his chest as well. Harry just held her for a few minutes and planted a few kisses on her exposed neck.

Slowly Harry's hand started to slide its way up Rowena's smooth leg like it had on the previous nights. The hand was just about to reach her girl bits before Rowena suddenly rolled over to face him.

Harry thought he had done something wrong at first, but the mischievous smile on her face told him different. Rowena placed one of her slender hands on Harry's well defined stomach and he immedietly realized that Rowena had something else in mind.

She spoke up in a silky voice. It was much different than her normal pleasant voice, and Harry could tell it was genuine. It sounded much better than a fake husky or seducing voice. "The past few nights you have always taken care of me, giving me pleasure without wanting anything in return."

Harry made eye contact with her clear blue eyes. "Because I value your contentment far above mine."

Rowena blew a strange of hair out of her face. "Yeah, well, we are both in this relationship together, and therefore, we should both be content."

"I am content." Harry replied.

"Let us see if you will change your turn after I am done with you." Rowena said with a playful smile. "You have given me pleasure many times this week; it is only fair I return the favor."

"Uh…" Harry gulped, his voice having gone completely dry.

"I don't think I am quite ready for sex yet, but I should be able to 'take care' of you, as it were."

"I can't say no…"

"If you did, I would think you are gay."

The covers on the bed were tossed off to the side and Rowena was now lying on Harry's legs.

Rowena's hands grabbed the side of his shorts and she slowly started to pull them down.

"I have never done this before… but I want to. It will be a new experience for both of us, will it not?"

Harry gave a weak laugh. It was much a research project for Rowena as it was anything else. But she did care for him, that much was certain. If she didn't she wouldn't be here still.

The shorts came down and Harry's half soft meat was laid before her.

"Oh my." Rowena said, nearly breathless. "This is more than I was expecting to see. Everything I have read-"

Harry gave a cough, cutting off Rowena who gave him a sheepish look.

"Sorry, getting carried away. This is just so fascinating."

Harry could tell that Rowena had legitimately never touched a penis before as she hesitantly grabbed on to his todger. He was still somewhat soft, more out of fear of the unknown situation rather than lack of arousal. But that changed quick as Rowena's soft hand had a firm hold.

Rowena took in her hand and brought it close to her face. She inspected the veins and the head, and was probably memorizing every detail. She tentatively played with his testicles for a minute before moving back to his shaft.

Harry blinked once and suddenly the most intelligent witch the world has ever known was tasting his shaft with her tongue and mouth.

The sensation was unlike anything he had every felt before, even as inexperienced as she was in her technique, Harry was just as lacking in the receiving end as well. He was quickly brought to full mast under her ministrations.

"Damn!" Rowena said in awe. "Good thing I said no sex tonight, I doubt I would be able to walk if this thing was in me, and there is still a week of Tradesmeet left…"

She was now playing with his rod using both hands. Her hands were not quite large enough to reach around his shaft, and even with both hands working him, there was still enough of his head and shaft sticking out for her to try and fit that in her mouth, which she did.

Harry had never had a blowjob before. Even with all his fame, he had never gotten anywhere with it. He had dreamed of such acts before, and more. Everyone masturbates, even Harry had occasionally. He told himself it was a good stress reliever, but it was more than that. It started with Cho in third year, but Fleur haunted his private thoughts from 4th year and on.

But the real world had a way of crashing down around him. He had tried to get Cho, and failed. His fame was not always enough, and he was happy with that fact. He was too young for Cho at the time, and even during the next year. He found himself just trying to settle for anything, even Ginny. She had a nice personality from what he could remember, but that was it. She was pear-shaped, with her mother's hips but nothing else without having gone through 7 childbirths. Hermione wasn't much better. Even Ron found himself getting tired of the attractive Lavender Brown and going after Hermione's pleasant personality over any appearance issues. That was the real world, at least until he arrived in this world.

He looked down at the way Rowena was handling him. A smile came to his face along with the constant tingling of pleasure and the slow build up that he knew would lead to a finale. Perhaps this was the one area where it was good to be 'the boy-who-lived'.

Harry still laid there as Rowena seemed to be having as much fun playing with his erection as he was having pleasure. She tried to fit as much of him in her mouth as possible – about half, before coming back up for air. She was not skilled, but like anything else, she would learn, and in time master it. Learning was half the fun.

Her technique hardly mattered to Harry though; he was not some sort of connoisseur of blow jobs. Her clumsiness was more than enough to get him off. Rowena seemed to have taken a fondness to the double hand method and was going at a decent clip. She wasn't using her mouth, but was rather focusing at the task at hand.

She was watching Harry intensely as the feeling in his loins gradually changed. She watched as his closely shaven body reacted to something she was causing. Harry didn't have much hair on his body- something he explained as a result of Africa, along the lines of hair being a very good hiding spots for ticks and other insects. Hygiene was an important part to survival, something that commoners during the middle ages would not realize for some time.

It put a smile on Rowena's face to know that his body reacted to her ministrations just as much as her body reacted to his.

Suddenly Harry's breath became very sporadic, and Rowena thought it best to slow down her pumping. Harry's hand clenched onto the bed, his knuckles almost white.

Rowena watched his man bits clench up as she pumped very slowly. Harry groaned quite loudly, and said something that was unintelligible, before loosening up with a loud sigh.

"Unnnnngh ahhhhhh!" was the extent of Harry's vocabulary as he forcefully ejaculated.

Rowena's eyes were wide as Harry's spunk shot right for her face. She didn't have time to move as she was hit several times with his long shots. She wasn't expecting that, even knew she knew that would happen.

She stared at Harry with a look of incredulousness. He was still panting from the intense pleasure he felt and the release.

"So- sor-," he panted and changed his mind, "That was bloody amazing."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it" Rowena responded with a laugh through cum coated lips. She seemed unsure what to do next, but she hesitantly took her finger and dabbed the stick substance and brought it to her lips.

Harry watched in awe as Rowena slowly tasted a small bit of his man juice. She licked her whole finger clean after the first taste, and Harry felt himself growing hard again at the sight.

"Wow that did taste half bad," Rowena exclaimed. She used her wand to clean the rest of the mess through, before noticing that Harry was one more as hard as a rock. "Again? Well, alright. Practice makes perfect."

Harry closed his eyes in pleasure as Rowena used more of her mouth this time.

Yes, sometimes it was great to be Harry Potter.

* * *

Harry slept well that night, very well. Hell, he still had a smile on his face. So did Rowena for that matter, and he didn't even do anything to her.

Her technique had improved by the third time, her curiosity of male genital replaced with trying to please him… what exactly were they? Boyfriend and girlfriend did not seem adequate, and wife and husband made them sound too old and bound by society. Lovers perhaps? Maybe, but they hadn't progressed to sex yet although he could tell Rowena's curiosity about the act was going to mean that would come sooner than later.

Harry himself wasn't going to push for it. He could wait. They had eternity after all, and he had gotten this far in life without sex, he could go longer. He had all but forgotten about that drunken incident in the Dwarven Kingdom all those years ago, not that he could remember much of the night in the first place.

The satisfied wizard stretched himself on the bed, looking like the cat who caught a canary. He looked down and saw that Rowena was draped over his chest and was now staring at him with a cute smile on her face and a look of affection in her eyes.

He enjoyed that look and returned it with a similar look of his own.

"Have a good night?" she asked with a wink.

"The best ever," Harry admitted.

"Good. I want you to have a good morning as well," Rowena responded.

Before he even realized what was happening, Rowena was devouring his flaccid penis. Granted, it didn't stay that way for long and in just a minute she was gobbling his fully erect hard-on. She couldn't deep throat him, but she did her best with her experience which now only included the previous night.

It was 10 minutes later when they finally reached the shower. Rowena had yet to remove any of her clothing, having performed all the sexual acts on Harry with her clothes on. Harry was feeling surprisingly fresh. He couldn't remember that last time he had felt so good about life.

But she was naked now, washing away to results of their labor.

It was a view that would never get old, in both meanings of the word.

Eventually they were both clean and clothed for another day at the Tradesmeet. They both couldn't help smiling. They were both happy, and that was a rarity in both of their lives. He could honestly say he had never been happier, and that is not because he just had his dick sucked.

Well, that was part of it, but most of it was having someone in his life that actually cared about him. And he cared about her too, more than he thought he would. He thought he had outgrown or forgotten what affection was, but it is a primal human instinct that never leaves you no matter who you are or what you do.

Love was a different animal altogether, but Harry was taking life one day at a time.

They both gave each other a visual once over and deemed themselves acceptable. Harry wore a black tunic with a leather belt with his sword and scabbard attached. Rowena wore a slightly classier outfit compared to the day before. It showed her feminine side slightly more, accentuating her bust just enough to draw some eyes (not that that was hard to do regardless). It was still a more practical than fashionable.

Harry grabbed Rowena's hand with his own, and just like yesterday, Rowena apparated them to the Tradesmeet once more.

The place was still buzzing with activity. It was almost as if the constant trading of goods had never stopped. In actuality, they probably didn't.

Harry kept holding onto Rowena's slender hand as they walked through the crowds. Their first stop was the clothier that Rowena had ordered an untold amount of clothing from yesterday.

They made their way past armored guardsman patrols and other commoners, merchants and noblemen. The alehouses were not quite as busy in the morning as they were at night, but they were still populated. The air was somewhat cleaner compared to the previous night, and the path was somewhat cleaner as well. That would quickly change in the upcoming hours though.

The master tailor and his family were already bustling around their little section of the market. The elder master had a tired but satisfied look on his face, and his eyes lit up when he saw the couple approaching.

One of his grandchildren had just fallen in the dirt and the grandfather quickly bent over and picked her up before brushing the dirt off her small apron.

"Ah, Miss Rowena and friend! You will be delighted to know that I have your order completely finished and tailored to your exact specifications.

"Excellent, I hope you were not presented with any difficulties?" Rowena responded.

"None at all. Some of the clothes partially pre made for this week, but I still spent most of the night working on them with some of my grandchildren."

"Oh, I apologize."

"Don't worry yourself over it, child. 'tis the spirit of the Tradesmeet to get the goods to the customer in an acceptable amount of time. Working through the night is a common practice. Tradesmeet is the season of little sleep and a lot of coin... Come, come, let me show you your purchase."

Harry put hand on Rowena's back as the old man led them to her, no, their, purchase. The man started showing Rowena the clothes she had ordered. Half of them were fairly plain, but the other half, not so much. The old man looked completely at easy as he handled several of her new intimates. But then again, he did make them himself.

Harry was somewhat surprised on how revealing some of the clothes were, even by modern standards, and especially considering Rowena's nature. She would probably never wear them in public, but still, Rowena was constantly surprising him.

He was surprised once again when Rowena tossed an article of clothing at him. Harry's fast instincts caught the piece before it was anywhere close to touching the ground. He held it up in front of him and marveled at the coat of arms on it. It was in the classic style where every piece on it had a meaning. Harry was unlearned in those meanings, but some of them seemed self explanatory. There was an obligatory raven as to be expected.

His attention was drawn to the motto stitched underneath the crest. It read "SCIENTIA EST VOX." Harry recognized it as Latin, but it had been so long since he had used any proper Latin that it took him a bit to come up with a translation. He couldn't agree more with it.

The article of clothing itself he recognized as a tabard. A Ravenclaw tabard, and it was his. Harry took his commitments seriously, and apparently so did Rowena. He said he would be her champion, and he meant every word of it.

Harry flipped the article around, and with a swift motion he put his head through the hole and flipped it over his back. He wore a proud smile on his face and Rowena immedietly rushed over to him and kissed him deeply on the lips.

A coughing from behind them brought their attention back to reality. The old tailor had a smile on his face. "It looks good on you. But then again, all my work looks good. Shall we talk about payment?"

"Fair enough. Your work is excellent. How much do I owe?" Harry asked.

The man started tallying up all material and came up with a price that was more than fair. Harry reached into his pouched and pulled out a handful of silver sickles.

All parties involved were happy with transaction and Rowena and Harry made their way back into the Tradesmeet. Harry turned the bundle of clothes into a portkey just like he did the previous day with the glass. Instead of finding some cover to perform the magic, he simply discretely cast a notice-me-not charm on himself temporarily.

With the large purchase of Rowena's wardrobe out of their way, they were once more unburdened and continued through the Tradesmeet.

They mostly just browsed through the wares and checked out interesting or beautiful pieces of work. The couple made a few purchased for decorations in their bedroom, but nothing of significance.

Lunch was had at one of the many temporary pavilions set up to feed the masses. Harry had a mug of ale and a plate of a mysterious meet. He wasn't sure what it was, and was probably better off not knowing. It was delicious though.

The two of them were currently looking at some exquisite leather armor. He glanced quickly at the proprietor before having to do a double take. The man was wearing a hooded cape, but he turned his head just enough for Harry to see his pointed ears.

This was quite a surprise. The Elf blended in quite well with the crowd.

Harry leaned over and whispered to Rowena. "This man is an Elf."

She looked at him with questioning eyes. "What are you going to do?"

Harry scratched at the nonexistent stubble on his chin in thought. "What's the worst that can happen?"

Rowena jerked towards him. "Never say that! You should know that better than anyone."

"Sorry," Harry muttered. "Let's go say hi."

They walked over to the Elf who was just finishing up with another customer. "Hello, how many I be of service?" the elf asked. "I am called Galasthanion."

"Greetings Galasthanion. I am not interested in any of your goods today, excellent they may be. Instead I am curious…" Harry paused, decided exactly how to ask his question. "How is the blood mage situation? Is the Kingdom still on the run?"

The elf narrowed his eyes while slowly withdrawing his sword. "Who are you? Who sent you? Are you one of _them_?"

Harry immedietly held his hands up in a gesture of peace. "I am known as Artemis Entreri. I am a friend of Princess Israniel Larenlynnlal and the Dwarven King Thothic." He had trouble pronouncing the princess's name and he hope he didn't butcher it.

"_Queen_ Israniel is currently safe." The elf didn't seem to want to say more.

"Queen? How did that happen?" Harry asked.

"The former queen was enslaved by the vile blood mages, just like 95% of our population. Even now those vile beings prowl through forests, not happy until every last one of us is under their control." Galasthanion spit on the ground when he mentioned the blood mages.

"Is there anything I can do to help? Where are they hiding currently?"

"Kill every last one of them you see. Then, and only then, can my races enslavement be dispelled. I do not trust you enough to tell you the last spot I remember them being it."

Harry was about to say something but the elf seemed distracted and staring at something happening over Harry's shoulder.

All of a sudden an ear piercing shriek filled the air. Harry briefly saw Galasthanion's face take on a look of horror before Harry spun around and unsheathing his sword in the process.

Rowena turned around as well, and nearly froze with shock. She brought a hand up to her face and her eyes widened, but she couldn't look away.

A man dressed in completely red robes was standing above an Elf. Harry could see the pointed ears from where he stood.

The gruesome part was the sickly reddish black bolts that were surging from the blood mage's hands and into and around the hapless Elven crafter.

Slowly before everyone's eyes, the Elf shriveled up and shrank, and in scant seconds a small ugly Elf with large eyes and ears stood in front of them all.

He had just witness the horrific act of a free elf being turned into a house-elf. It took all his will power to not vomit on the spot, but others were not so lucky.

Then without warning the blood mage turned and stared right where Harry and Galasthanion were standing.

"This isn't good. Run!" Harry yelled to the elf. "I'll take this guy out."

The blood mage had its eyes firmly set on the Elf and was unwavering in its attention as it calmly walked towards it. Harry wasn't about to show the thing any mercy and he merely lopped its head off with a meager swing of his sword.

The troubles were hardly over though. Several more blood mages came out of the crowd and began chasing after the Elf.

The enemy mages broke out into a run, but the elf was very fast and nimble. Harry joined in the pursuit as did Rowena. Harry may have been fast enough, but Rowena was not. He did not want to leave her open for attack so he stayed close to her.

She had her wand out, as did Harry. They chased after the mages and right into the vast forest.

The couple lost sight of them very rapidly, but the continued on after them. The canopy of branches slowly got thicker above them and the light got dimmer. The foliage got denser and they had a hard time even running over the rough terrain.

Time slipped by and it was hard to tell what time of the day it was, but it was getting quite dark. There had not been any signs of the magi or the elf for well over an hour, but they did not give up hope.

They slowly walked to a halt. Something was not right.

"It's quiet." Harry stated. "Too quiet."

"The animals have stopped moving." Rowena commented.

"Be on the lookout. This place reeks of unfamiliarity, yet it is old… the trees are ancient."

Harry peered through the darkness, and out of the corner of his eyesight he saw a flash of light, and then another, and another.

Harry grabbed Rowena's arm and pointed towards the spellfire.

The both looked each other in the eyes. No words were needed as they both headed off in that direction. Their carefully sneaked through the trees, trying to make the least amount of noise as possible. It was delicate balance of speed and stealth.

It only took them about two minutes to see what the commotion was.

In front of them was a girl, or perhaps a young woman. It was hard to tell aside from the fact that she had nice young feminine curves, but she was quite tall.

Perhaps the most immedietly noticeable thing about her was her attire. She was wearing a skirt that looked to be made entirely out of feathers and leather. Her shirt, if it could be called a shirt, looked like nothing more than a scarf that covered her breasts along with some feathers decorating her shoulders.

It was clearly homemade and nothing like either one of them had ever seen. She also had an exquisite looking gold necklace on that looked vaguely Egyptian but also very out of place. She was wielding a staff as she fought off her enemy, and she looked to be a very powerful magic user

She was attractive in her own rights with her hair as dark as Rowena and dark brown eyes. But there was something off about her, and it made him wary. Harry did not like being surprised.

Harry knew that she was not the enemy though. The enemy the strange woman was fighting was one he had fought in the past, and one he dreaded.

Dementors. Nearly a dozen of them.

Harry was surprised once more when he saw that two remains of dementors already lay scattered on the ground, nothing more than burnt tattered cloaks. Faint wisps of smoke could be seen trailing off the bodies.

He looked at the woman with new respect. He had never heard of anything being able to _kill_ a dementor before.

He and Rowena watched for a few seconds to see what spell she was using to fight them. Not much information was gained however, as it simply seemed like the woman directed her staff at the target and wordlessly unleashed some sort of magic at them.

Harry's druidic magic sensed the familiarity of the spell, but it was still very different. It was clearly related to the patronus charm, but it was inherently different. Perhaps an offshoot or unknown derivative, or perhaps the opposite. He didn't know, and they didn't have time to ask as the dementors effects seem to be taking their toll on her.

It was as he was thinking about the dementor's chill that he suddenly felt their aura of coldness creep up on him as well. Without waiting any longer he pulled out his wand.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" He bellowed. His memory was that of his intimacy with Rowena the night before. It proved more than adequate as his stag patronus diverted to approaching dementors away from the staff-wielding woman.

Rowena joined with her own patronus, that of a unicorn. It was barely cohesive, but Harry had a suspicion that it was the first time she had ever cast the spell successfully.

Harry's stag circled around the outside of the dementors, slowly corralling them up a group. Rowena's patronus acted as a guardian for the three humans, acting a barrier towards the empty void of cold the dementors emitted.

The mysterious witch wasted no time in blasting the dementors with her staff. Harry could feel her power waning, but she showed no outwards signs of fatigue on her features. He could see the patronus were also affecting her as well, but in a positive way. Harry and Rowena kept up their patronus until the witch eliminated the rest. The fallen dementors bodies smoked, and it looked like the very land beneath them burned as their taint seeped into the ground.

The witch took a look around before spotting the two of them. She walked over, a small smile playing on her lips, but still holding onto her staff.

"And what do we have here? A witch and a wizard?" Her small smile turned into a small frown. "Or do you want me to call you savior?"

"It was purely accidental when we came across you fighting these dementors. Say, have you seen any blood mages running by? They were chasing an elf?"

"Blood mages?" she spat the name out. "No, I have not. Chasing an elf you say? A free elf? That is most interesting." Her posture suddenly changed. "I apologize for my rudeness before. I am… not used to other people and showing emotion. I have been under great distress since my partner departed. "

"I – Move!" Harry shouted.

Out of the shadowy trees several more dementors surged onto the group. One of the dementors batted the feather-clothed witch out of the way. She crashed onto the ground before scampering backwards and getting up onto her feet again.

Harry cast his patronus once more and sent it towards the dementors. He noticed something was wrong immedietly. Either his patronus was not as powerful as it was earlier, or the dementors were somehow stronger than the last. The cold aura was slowly seeping into his bones, and Rowena's patronus did not seem to help at all.

The foliage underneath the dementor's feet shriveled up and died, while vines hanging from trees simply rotted away. Harry knew he was in trouble when the dementor clawed at his patronus, and he was surprised to see it actually made contact with it. It disappeared.

Harry panicked and tried casting his patronus once more, but nothing would come out. Rowena's patronus was still up, and she was skillfully keeping it out of reach of the dementors, but it was not nearly strong enough to ward off the feelings of despair.

Harry saw a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye and was surprised to see that the unknown witch had cast another piece of magic he had never seen before. It was like a blizzard, but shaped into a cone coming out of her staff.

The cone of cold seemed to have some effect as dementor was now moving significantly slower. The dementor's aura was still as strong as ever though and his teeth started to clatter. He cast a warming charm of the three of them and he felt the physical effects of the aura go away, but the mental effects were still strong.

Harry had time to dodge another dementor coming from the woods and reaching for his neck. He pulled out his sword. His mind was being taxed from the constant overexposure to dementors, and he somehow thought that a sword would be able to hurt them. He realized his follow that all because they looked like Nazgûl, did not mean they were Nazgûl.

He almost paid the price for his brief moment of disorientation. He sheathed his useless sword and brought his wand up once more. He was going to freeze them like he saw the other girl do. The problem was it had been so long since he had cast a freezing charm with his wand that he could not remember it. His instincts told him that using his shamanistic powers to manipulate the dementor's cold aura against them would do nothing.

Harry fumbled for a second before the words came to his mind.

"Mico Congelio!"

A blue square of energy shot from his wand and soared at the dementor. The frosty transparent square spun a few times before impacting the insidious creature. Harry sighed in relief when he saw that it had an effect. The flash freezing spell did not freeze the dementor completely, but it was a start. He cast the hex again, except this time he focused his shamanistic power through it.

The effect was instantaneous as the dementor froze solid. It looked like some hideous frozen statue. He could still feel the aura coming off the dementor so it was not 'dead.' He remedied that by sending a blasting curse at the frozen creature and shattering it into many fine pieces.

Harry quickly looked for the remaining dementors. Two were following after Rowena, who was backpedalling and using a mixture of slowing and ensnaring spells on them. The other witch had summoned a blizzard on a group of 4.

Harry was quite impressed. Not many could conjure a full blizzard in a middle of the forest in 70 degree weather. Then again, Harry could, and Rowena probably could as well, but probably not in the middle of intense dementor exposure.

A flame whip emerged from Harry's wand as he approached Rowena. He whipped it over his head, arcing it out at the dementors. Fire was an interesting thing. Most creatures were either repulsed by it, or attracted to it. Luckily, Dementors seemed to be repulsed by it.

Harry felt the cold aura sapping away the flames, but he kept the whip bright and strong, and that seemed to deter the dementors even more.

Rowena got up from the spot she tumbled on the ground and pointed her wand at the stalled dementors. Her wand was a blur of movements as she incanted "Aestuo coniecto abyssus plasmestas!"

A look of surprised came over Harry's face when he realized exactly what Rowena had cast. A surge of hellish flame poured out of her wand. It covered the ground like ever-burning napalm, and the smell was not so different either.

The air felt foul though, whether it was from the fiendfyre or the decaying dementors, Harry was not sure. Out of Rowena's cursed fire, creatures of flame emerged. Harry was expecting images of heliopaths, dragons, imps, and other nasties to appear, but instead was something much more benign.

Fiery unicorns and phoenixes devoured the dementors. The flame dissolved their evil and destroyed their souls. Multilayered high pitched wailing filled their ears as the foul creatures left this world in pile of sulphur and brimstone. Only two words could describe what he had just witnessed.

"Holy shit."

Harry had to remind himself that this was still Rowena, his Rowena. And he had to remind himself that she has and always will be more knowledgeable than him. She could take care of herself if the situation demanded it, and this one did. So she did, and without qualm. She uses whatever magic she thinks would be best for the situation, and no one could argue with the results.

Harry's attention faltered from the hellish fiery unicorns and to where the other, still unnammed witch, was finishing up her blizzard. All the dementors near her frozen solid. Harry and Rowena both watched as she walked up to every frozen statue and smashed the heads off with her staff.

When she was done, all three of them noticed the aura of darkness dispersing from the forest. All that remained were the oozing and sizzling remains of the foulest creatures on the earth. Their deaths would surely taint the forest for some time to come, similar to a curse wound. Harry inspected the corrupted earth and knew his druidic power was inadequate for the job of healing the land, but perhaps an archdruid could.

The witch was now learning on her staff, and looking at Harry and Rowena with interest. "Now where were we? Ah yes. I believe we got off on the wrong foot. Considering you two just helped me with a great deal of trouble, etiquette states that I should be nice to you. So I shall."

Harry didn't much like her tone. It was slightly sarcastic, yet slightly friendly. It was clear she had conflicting emotions; perhaps a troubling past was the cause. "I am Artemis Entreri, and this Rowena Ravenclaw. We left from the Tradesmeet in pursuit of a few rogue blood mages."

"Urg, Tradesmeet," She said in disgust. "More disgusting humans that I care to be around, all concentrated in one place."

"Are you… not human yourself? You look human."

"I am human. How rude of me, I never gave my name," she said in mock sincerity. "My name is Morrigan. Some people refer to me as the 'witch of the wilds.' Oh how I loathe that name and the rumors… not saying they are not true. I just don't appreciate anyone talking about me behind my back.

"You seem very powerful for your age. Who trained you?"

"Mother taught me everything I know. Magic-wise at least," Morrigan added as an afterthought. Being isolated from any human settlement did not do much for my manners, as you can imagine. And you two are what, exactly?"

Rowena answered her this time. "I am one of the four founders of the new Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"I've never heard of it. A place to learn magic? Sounds… interesting."

"I am a fighter and guardian of sorts." Harry replied. "Right now I am trying to free elves from their enslavement, and also stop the evil housed up in Azkaban."

"Sounds like someone I once knew," Morrigan remarked more to herself than anyone else. "As much as the conversation entertains me, and before we get to the eventual talk of bartering on how to fulfill my life debt to you two, I must go check up on my dear daughter of mine. I left her at my hut, so that is where I suggest we head."

They had just started to walk when an ear piercing scream echoed through the air. It sounded like a young girl.

"No!" Morrigan yelled before breaking off into a run.

Harry and Rowena wasted no time in giving chase once more. Harry was still in pretty decent condition, but Rowena was very worn out.

However they did not have to run far before they came across a fight once more.

Morrigan was once again battling. It was clear that she was no stranger to fighting. Her staff shot a beam of gray light at the nearest opponent, and went straight through. The man toppled over, dead, from the large hole in his chest. The was no mistaking the red robes of the dead man.

"Blood mages," Harry snarled.

Morrigan was quite outnumber and was now constantly dodging enemy spells. She was quite nimble and always seemed to be in the right place at the right time.

Harry nearly missed it when Morrigan disappeared before their very eyes and in her place a large predatory cat stood. The cat immedietly pounced on the mages, ripping one to shreds before having to dodge spellfire once more.

She was much quicker and agile in her catform, but she was still outnumbered.

Both Harry and Rowena raised their wands at the same time and yelled out curses. Rowena shouted "Labeflactum Flammelus!" while Harry incanted "Artesecotus!"

Rowena's fiery boulder smashed into one mage, killing him instantly, and the same could be said about the mage whose was decapitated by Harry's cleaving attack.

Harry would admit he felt some satisfaction, even if he felt disgusted with himself. But in the end, it was either him, or them, and he was going to pick himself every time.

Of course, now half of the blood mages were focusing on them, while the other half was now on Morrigan alone.

Several spells came at them from the blood mages wands. Harry felt the tendrils of magic soar to him before the actual magic formed itself into a physical spell. It was one of the many lessons his former shaman mentor, Jordan, and taught him, and taught him well.

Harry quickly moved out of the way of the magic before the spells became reality, and he saw Rowena merely flourish her wand in great twirls as she countered the three spells that were sent at her in succession.

He didn't have time to watch her as he grabbed control of some of the vines and had them snake up along the legs of the mages.

That was quickly countered however with a flame curse, and Harry recognized some nasty bone crushing hexes flying at him, followed by a blood boiling. He rolled out of the way of an offensive transfiguration spell. He did not know what it was, but knowing blood mages, it was probably something along the lines of trying to turn his blood into stone.

Yeah, he did not want to get hit by that.

Harry had to dodge once more, but in the process he transfigured some snakes and commanded them to kill the blood mages. Hopefully nature would dispose of the unnatural.

He stepped to the right to dodge another blood boiling spell before it even formed. He sent another cleaving curse in retaliation. It did not kill the man, but it did lop off his arm, which probably would kill him. The mage fell onto the ground, but a second mage immedietly took advantage of the situation.

Harry did not recognize the incantation, but the blood mage used the fallen mages blood as a catalyst for a spell, and Harry was immedietly on the defensive.

A raging tower of fire soared up in front him, threatening to devour his body. It did not react to his shamanistic touch, and was unaffected by a flame freezing charm. He growled in frustration. This was one of the reasons why magic involving blood was so dangerous and looked down upon. It was powerful. And that kind of power comes with a cost.

He bore witness to that cost once before, and now he saw it again as the armless mage on the ground suddenly twisted into a hideous abomination before hopping up on its feet.

Harry did not know of any spell that could combat the blood fire, so he settled for transfiguring a large slab of stone to take the brunt of it.

Apparently Rowena had an idea how to combat it as she started chanting in Latin. "Voragam sepulchrum forame!" was her incantation of choice.

The roaring sound of the fire was replaced with the cackling of a large ball of black electricity rocketed in between them.

Harry realized with horror that it was not ball lightning. The black ball was absorbing light, along with the spells and nearby foliage.

The only thing that Harry could describe Rowena's magic was that of a Black Hole. He then realized that is exactly what it was when one of the blood mages disappeared in the hole never to be seen again.

One by one the blood mages, and turned abominations, disappeared into the hole as Rowena guided it along the forest floor.

The forest was completely still once more as all their enemies lay dead. Morrigan had finished tearing her enemies apart as a large cat.

Harry turned his focus on Rowena, and was astonished to see her drop the spell and collapse immedietly. Harry pulled himself up off the ground in a futile attempt to catch her, but was surprised to see that Morrigan caught her instead.

Morrigan looked down at Rowena and almost seemed concerned, but Harry couldn't read the witches face well. He walked over just in time to see a bird land on the witch of the wild's shoulder.

Harry looked at Morrigan questioningly as she seemed to be examining Rowena.

"Your consort has depleted her magic significantly. We shall bring her back to my hovel where I have a potion that will help. She is also physically exhausted."

"Consort?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Isn't that what she is to you? A lover? I can see it in your eyes." As she said that, Morrigan held out Rowena for Harry to carry.

Harry took Rowena in his arms and then watched in amazement as the bird on her shoulder flew off and changed into a small girl in front of his eyes.

The girl was no more than 5 and had surprisingly dark red hair as opposed to Morrigan's black.

Morrigan bent over to talk to the girl. "Cliodna, daughter, are you alright?"

"Yes mother. The blood mages could not follow me into the air."

"Good. We have guests, daughter, and I want you to be on your best behavior."

"I understand mother."

It was an awkward conversation to listen to, as they seemed too formal with each other, especially for being hermits. He followed behind as they walked towards her hut.

It was only about 300 feet away from where they battled the blood mages. It was larger than what Harry was expecting, and well kept. Inside were two beds and Harry placed his 'consort' down on the bed Morrigan indicated. The rest of the hut was moderately furnished. There was a warming fire and a table, along with several wooden trunks, chests and a wardrobe. There was also a single bookshelf filled with musty tomes.

Morrigan dug through a trunk before pulling out a crystal vial filled with an ambient blue colored liquid.

"It is one of my more potent potions, but after her impressive display of magic I think she needs every bit of it. She is quite powerful. But not as powerful as you, wizard. Or shall I call you druid? Shaman?"

"Artemis is fine." Harry replied nonchalantly, not showing his surprised that she knew what he was. At least she didn't say time-traveler – then there would have been a problem.

"Very well, Artemis. Now, you rescued me from those vial creatures, and as such, I owe you a debt. Of course I could have handled myself, but the nature of magic says otherwise."

Harry first reaction was to decline, but that would probably insult the proud witch. "I noticed that both you and your daughter are an animagus."

"Animagus? I think not. We are shapeshifters. We can take on any form, but we do have our favorites, and there are limitations."

"I've never heard of a mage being able to take on any form before… Anyways I have recently discovered that I too have an animal form, but I have only been able to change into it once. Can you teach me?

A small smile played across Morrigan's face." Can I teach someone to become a shapeshifter you ask? Yes, I suppose I could. Will I? No," the girl snootily said.

"Why not? That is what I want for the debt."

"No, it isn't." Morrigan started pacing around her room, searching for something. "I did not notice it before, but someone was here. Smells of blood mage…"

She stopped pacing right in front of her book shelf. She scanned the books before swearing under her breathe. "It's gone. My mother's grimmoire. Those fiends took it!"

A chair exploded as she kicked it, before she calmed down and faced her daughter. "Sorry for startling you, Cliodna. Something precious has been stolen from me."

Morrigan then turned to face Harry. "I cannot teach you because merely teaching you something would not fulfill a life debt. And I don't think you have quite proved your worth yet to learn something of that magnitude from me."

"What do I need to do? You are the first person I've encountered who can possibly teach me this latent skill of mine. I wouldn't even know where to begin…"

Morrigan looked down at him in curiosity. Her daughter mimicked the action, including bending her neck at the exact same angle.

"Here is what is going to happen. Tomorrow you will travel to Azkaban. I have heard rumors and whisperings for years about the evil that is coming from that place, including mentions of blood mages. My guess is that the evil you search for is still there, and probably my grimmoire as well. Recover my grimmoire and I will teach you what you want to know."

Harry mulled it over for a minute. "And what of the debt?"

"Did I forget to mention that I am to accompany you to this place? There will be plenty of life threatening situations and I am sure that you will not say no to an extra fighter."

"Okay. So you will accompany us on our mission, purge some evil, recover your grimmoire, and then teach me the basic of accessing my shapeshifting skill?"

"In a word, Yes." Morrigan sat down in a chair without bothering to offer Harry one. She pulled out a metal container and a wine glass, and then poured herself a drink. She stared down at Rowena as she grabbed the glass in between her fingers and bought it up to her lips.

She watched as her daughter Cliodna continued to carefully administer the magic renewing potion to Rowena in small portions. Eventually the entire potion was administered and Rowena's tense body seemed to sigh in relief.

"So, Morrigan, do you mind if I ask you some questions?" Harry asked hesitatingly.

"If I said yes, would that prevent you from asking? I have already invited you into my home, so I will suffer your inane questions as a symbol of hospitality, and nothing more."

"Alright…" Harry said slowly. "It is probably rude of me to ask, but where is Cliodna's father? Your Husband? Significant other? Surely it wasn't your choice to raise a child alone."

"Awfully bold questions from someone I hardly know. But answer them I shall. It _was_ my choice to raise her alone. Her father died destroying a great evil before she was born. I did not love the man, but her birth was essential to the defeat of the evil. Ask me not, for it is only a tale I will tell to someone I can trust implicitly. My significant other is has been out of the country for several years."

"What does he do? A trader? Cartographer?"

"Nothing so mundane. _She_ is much like yourself. A fighter and a guardian. _She _protects people who cannot protect themselves, even though I would say that most of them don't deserve it. _She_ taught me the meaning of friendship and love."

"She?" Harry asked, not understanding at first. "Oh. OH!" he exclaimed yes widening. "That is, er, unusual."

"Who are we to understand how love works? I love her, and she loves me, but duty called her away and I have to raise Cliodna. She is important to the future of the world."

Harry wasn't quite sure what to say now. He had many more questions than he had to start with, but he already felt like he had over stepped his bounds.

"Rowena reminds me much of my lover. Willing to tax her body beyond its limits to help someone she doesn't even know. Quite attractive as well, even more than my Liândan. Living in the forest my whole life has given me an appreciation for beauty. Take this necklace for example. It is very exquisite and beautiful, and I like it very much. The female form is much more attractive than the male form, but fear not, my heart lies with Liândan."

Harry was feeling very awkward now. Morrigan was attractive, sure, but she didn't even look remotely capable of love, or affection at all. But Harry knew better than anyone else that outward appearances can be deceiving.

The wizard's musing was cut short as Rowena started to stir. Her eyes opened without warning and she sat up straight in bed. She must have regretted that as she let out a ground and collapsed back down.

"Where am I?" she asked softly.

"You are in Morrigan's hut. It has only been a few hours since the fight against the blood mages."

"Morrigan?" Rowena asked weakly.

"Relax child," Morrigan soothed. "Your body has suffered extreme magical and physical fatigue. I have given you a potion for the magical fatigue, but you will need true sleep for the physical fatigue to go away."

"Thanks," Rowena muttered, "And I am older than you. Probably by at least 15 years…"

"Really?" Morrigan asked, surprised. "You look barely 20. I will admit I am impressed."

Harry kneeled beside her bed as Morrigan left the room with her daughter.

"I swear, if I catch you checking her out…"

Harry actually laughed. "She is attracted to women, not men."

"What does that…Oh. OH!"

"My thoughts exactly. She is strange though. But she has agreed to help us storm Azkaban tomorrow. Plus, you are for more attractive. But now, you need your rest."

"Where will you sleep?" Rowena asked tiredly.

"I will not leave your side."

"Thank you."

Harry held onto Rowena's hand as she fell back into a peaceful sleep. Harry slowly felt his eyes close as well as he leaned up against the wooded wall.

* * *

_Author's Notes (updated 2/27/11)_

_Sorry about the 5month wait for this chapter. I was busy. I deleted the previous A/N for this chapter because it was long and no longer relevant, 2 months after this chapter was posted._

_I had a lot of reviews saying there was a lot of grammar/spelling mistakes in this chapter, and I went through it and didn't find more than a half dozen that I missed the first time through. The dwarves accented English is intentional, and I know my tense usage needs improvement. Still, if you see any major mistakes feel free to tell me the specific instance. Also, if there are any inconsistencies let me know (new chapters verse old. I'm not interested in inconsistencies of my world verse canon HP and real history)._

_Oh, and the steamy bits are written intentionally awkward. Both characters are unsure, but eager. Hormones cause people to behave in the damndest of ways. The scenes are supposed to be a teaser for the real scene coming up in a few chapters._


	15. Azkaban

Azkaban

Harry woke up with a start, and in doing so, woke Rowena up as well. He panicked for a few second at the sight of an unknown location, before the previous days memories came back to him.

He slowly pulled himself up to his feet and worked the kink out of his neck. Rowena took his offered hand and he helped her out of the unfamiliar bed.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked.

"Well enough," responded Rowena.

Harry looked her in the eye for a few seconds before nodded his head in acceptance. "Alright."

Rowena took her wand and silently cast freshening charms on the both of them before they headed out of the hut to look for Morrigan. They were still in the same clothes as the previous day, but it did not matter in the place they were going to. The other bed looked un-slept in and neither of the other occupants were currently inside.

Harry and Rowena walked outside and spied Morrigan sitting in front of a fire, with her daughter's head lying in her lap. The witch looked quite innocent, but witnessing her mangle several mages yesterday as a jaguar convinced him that she was anything but.

They took a seat across from Morrigan at the fire. Harry was about to ask an intelligent question but was interrupting with the stomach growled in hunger. "Er- ?"

"Help yourselves" Morrigan stated while motioning to a large fruit-bearing tree behind her.

Harry walked over to the odd tree and plucked two fruits off the tree, handing one to Rowena.

The fruit was unlike any had seen before. It was the same color as an apple, but that was as far as the similarities went. It had more of a citrus flavor, but it was definitely unique. Rowena watched him take a second bite and deemed it safe enough for her to eat as well.

Harry was strangely content after the single fruit and no longer hungry. He actually felt quit refreshed. He looked at the husk of the fruit with suspicion. There was more than meets the eyes as it was most certainly a magical fruit.

During their quick breakfast, none of them said a single word to each other. Harry got the distinct impression that Morrigan didn't like him. Or perhaps she just didn't like people in general.

But a promise was a promise, and Morrigan would hold her part of the bargain.

"Are you two lovebirds going to stand there all day, or can we finally leave?"

"What about your daughter?"

"Cliodna will be fine. She has inherited my shapeshifting talents and can take care of herself." She left no room for arguments, and Harry didn't think it worth the time to protest. He wanted to remain on her good side, especially if they were going to fighting together.

Cliodna was now staring up at her mother. "Will you be back for dinner Mother? Shall I make a stew?"

"That would be excellent, Daughter."

Cliodna said no more as she turned into a bird and flew u into the trees above and out of sight.

Harry continued to be amazed at the vastness of the unknown magical world. It seemed like every week he was being surprised by something new.

It seemed like Morrigan wanted to do this right away, and Harry had no real reason to say no. "Okay then girls, gather around and I will apparate us as close to the island as I can. I don't want to be caught unawares."

Rowena grabbed onto his arm, but Morrigan hesitated. "Apparate? What is that?"

Harry, instead of answering, grabbed onto her arm, and they disappeared with a pop. Morrigan actually screamed at the sensation, not expecting the odd feeling of being compressed and the dizzying display of light.

They arrived on the edge of the sea, with Azkaban isle just barely visible in the distance. Morrigan collapsed on the ground, nearly vomiting. She wiped her mouth with her arm before commenting. "That was most… unpleasant. Where are we?"

"We are at the edge of the North Sea. Azkaban is there," Harry pointed. "I tried to get us closer, but there is odd magic in the air, preventing me from going forward. I had not expected that, and I don't have a quick method for crossing this water."

"Broom?" Rowena asked.

Harry shook his head. "It isn't large enough for three people. Those waves do look unpleasant though, and cold."

"I believe I have a solution." Morrigan offered. She walked into the sea before her shape suddenly shifted into that of a large sea turtle.

The Morrigan-turtle turned around and beckoned for them to get on her shell.

Once again, Harry was at a loss for words. When he thought about what he would be doing this week, riding on the back of a shapeshifting turtle-witch was not even close.

Rowena took a seat on the shell, but Harry stood. Morrigan pushed off with her turtle flippers and started swimming towards the isle.

She was swimming faster than what Harry would have imagined, but it was still not that fast. It would surely take a few hours to get there, and Harry just wanted to get it over with.

After casting a silent warming charm on all three of them, he point his elder wand straight out in front of him.

Slowly but surely, the rough seas ahead of them died out into tame waters. The strong wind was now coming from their backs, giving Morrigan a nice boost to their speed.

Minutes passed by, first 5, then 15, then a whole hour. Rowena was humming a tune, enjoying the gentle swell of the sea. Harry remained standing up, using a mixture of all his magical expertise to silently keep the elements at bay. He was just starting to sweat from the constant maintenance of his magic.

Slowly but surely Azkaban started to loom up before them.

It was no longer a cheerful place, but one of gloom and death. The sheer cliff and the rising stone towers above them looked like a monument to the desecration of the former center of knowledge. Bloody banners and tattered flags hung from crumbling ramparts.

The state of the fortress was unnerving. It was in impeccable shape when he had last visited, and he found it baffling that this was caused by water, or even fighting. No, it looked like the fortress was eroded by evil itself.

Morrigan circled the perimeter of the island until she found a suitable landing zone for her wide bulk. She slowly beached herself and Harry immedietly jumped off and offered his hand to Rowena, who took it and carefully climbed off.

Morrigan slowly turned back into her human form, and acted like nothing was wrong. Her labored breath told a different story, but Harry did not want to insult her.

"I will admit that that was the first time I have ever been a turtle."

"And your conclusion?"

"It was… different. I do not fancy being a form of transportation more than necessary. I am not some form of pack mule..."

"I understand." Harry said, raising his hand peacefully to stop her from going into a rant. "It was much appreciated though."

Morrigan simply ignored him and started to walk up the slope to the looming fortress above.

"What is her problem?" Rowena whispered to Harry.

"She does not like being forced into situations beyond her control. A precious book was stolen from her, and she has a debt to pay for being rescued by us. Her personal honor demands no less."

"I suppose her attitude is understandable then…"

They quickly caught up with Morrigan who did not even spare them a second glance. They fell into place behind her as they quickly approached the fortress.

The path they were on was well worn, so it looked as if it at least lead somewhere. Wherever that place was though, it was probably not going to be pleasant.

They rounded a bend and in front of them loomed a set of large metal doors. Harry could see runes carved in them, but he could not recognize them. They didn't even look human.

Harry could feel the evil in the place, and gave an involuntary shiver. You didn't need to know anything about to place to realize that something foul was afoot.

The immortal wizard walked up to the door. He brought his hands up to within inches of the handles. It didn't feel like anything was going to happen to him, so he grabbed hold and pulled.

The right door slowly crept open as Harry exerted himself on the large handle. There were no traps waiting, unless you considered the whole of Azkaban a trap (and Harry did), but he was still in once piece.

Their ears begged for mercy though as the hinges on the door creaked like a banshee. It was so loud that it felt like his joints were popping out. He stopped pulling on the door once there was about two feet for them to walk through.

In front of them lay a large courtyard, or what remained of one. Trees long dead, and stone benches long abandoned. It did not look like anything had been through the large space in years.

Harry reached his magic out felt nothing but ambivalence. It was a confusing emotion, but probably not good in the long run. There was nothing outwardly malicious in the room, so they carefully walked their way through it to another set of doors, this time wooden.

The doors were partially rotting, the magic preserving the place weakening over time. With a silent wave of his wand, the wooden door crumpled inwards with minimal sound. Harry peeked in motioned for the two girls to follow behind him.

The hallway was unlit aside from ambient light coming in through small windows. Harry could make out torches on the walls, and with a little bit of a shamanistic nudge, they ignited to life.

Perhaps it was not the smartest thing, as a side door opened up and three mages in red robes came out. Harry did not hesitate to fire the first spell at the despicable blood mages.

He pointed the elder wand at them and unleashed a basic blasting hex. Rowena and Morrigan had the same thought pattern as well and their own blasting spells soared down the hallway.

The three spells smashed into the first mage, disintegrating him into nothing more than a fine bloody mist.

The remaining combatants took a few seconds to contemplate what they just saw before they started slinging spells back and forth.

Rowena was shooting incendiary bolts at the second blood mage while Morrigan was shooting pulses of pure magic at the third. That left Harry the odd wizard out, but he used their superior numbers to an immediate advantage.

He sent a barrage of stunners, and clipped the first mage in the first few seconds. Stunners were not permanent however, so he followed the successful up with a forceful banisher, sending the mage straight back into the mage behind him, and finally smashing his skull on the stone wall.

The man was still alive, for the moment, but his neck was broken. Harry felt no pity for him as he lit the two fallen blood mages on fire. He did cast a silencing charm so their death screams would not haunt his dreams.

Harry waited silently for a few seconds, trying to hear if there was anyone else approaching. He decided there wasn't, so he walked into the room that the blood mages had come from.

It was a large room. Thick bookshelves lined the wall, with equally thick tomes of knowledge resting on their shelves. The shelves were full of mildew, and the majority of the books his eyes saw seemed to be moldy, and most likely rotten.

The cause was evident. The architects of the time did not know how to cross large open expanses of ceiling with stone, so they used wood. And that wood was now rotting with holes in many spots. One section seemed to be completely caved in. Even with magic, Azkaban was a very large place and needed a lot of monitoring to prevent failure. Being situated on an island in the North Sea, the weather had taken its toll on the place.

One section of the room seemed to have ignored all the degradation though. Several tables were pushed off to a side, and a circle was drawn on the ground.

It was clearly a pentagram, and it was obviously drawn in blood. The mood was set with a pair of tall pewter candlesticks lit with black flames, and a pile of skulls sitting in the middle of the circle.

Morrigan must have had bigger balls than him, because he didn't particular care to pick one up. She picked several of them up, examining them. They all wore identical looks of pain and suffering.

"Monsters," was all she said.

Rowena and Harry both nodded their heads before continuing to the next room.

The only other door in the room was located opposite the previous, door, but unlike the first, this one was locked. Harry tried a basic unlocking charm '_Alohomora_,' which failed. He then tried the advanced unlocking charm, '_Reducto,' _which did work.

The grouped walked over the remains of the door and into a hallway. Like the rest of the place, the hallway hadn't seen use in years. Thick dust gathered on the ground, and large cobwebs gathered in the corner.

Several skeletons were on the ground as well, looking as if they tried to fight off some adversary and ultimately failing. He also noticed the burn marks around the walls, meaning these guys were burnt to death. Gruesome.

At the end of the hallway stood another door, this one locked as well. Fortunately, it was locked from their side so they opened it up with little trouble.

The next room was a hallway as well, but perpendicular to the one they just came from. There were three doors, one at each end, and one in the middle about 10 feet from their current location.

The door in the middle caught his attention immedietly. It was much larger and fancier than the other doors in the room. There was no lock upon it, and it seemed as sturdy as it would have been upon its first installation.

Needless to say, Harry pushed the door open, and the group arrived once more in a large cloister. An ambulatory was present around the rim, with decorated, but purposeful arches. The stonework in this particular area was very gloomy. Dark grays and blacks made up the majority of it. He reached his magic out and came to a simple conclusion.

It was not natural.

The grass in front of him could hardly be called glass. They blades shimmered like obsidian, and the dirt was as hard as concrete.

"I don't like the feeling of this." Harry stated to Rowena. She nodded her head, and started looking around for any sign of trouble. "Do you know where we are?"

Rowena nodded her head once more. "The main library should be down the hallway that is beyond… that… door."

Harry watched as Rowena's eyes lit up, and he immedietly turned around to see the cause.

Immerging from inside the large set of doors was a massive creature.

Three times as tall as Harry, and infinitely more gruesome and imposing, the demon strolled towards the group.

Atop its head lay a set of vicious horns. Its eyes glowed with demonic fire and its grey lips curled into a sneer. Its arms were massive, rippling with corded muscle. Its chest was similarly muscular too, and Harry had no doubt that it could rip them all in half with ease.

It also had a spiked tail, but that was not the oddest thing about it. Its legs were jointed backwards, and its feet looked like cleft hooves. It wore blackened chest and leg armor, adorned with human skulls.

But none of that is what caught Harry's attention. Not even the massive webbed wings that appeared from its back are what had his focus.

No, it was the massive 15 foot sword that the demon wielded. The blade was otherworldly as it seemed to be sucking all the light out of the sky. Its handle was 4 feet long, large enough for the demon to use both hands on it. The pommel stone was that of a goats face, adorned with gleaming blood red stones.

The mere presence of the demon would have made lesser men crumble beneath it, but Harry did not come all this way for nothing. It was a perversion of nature, and it was his duty to stop it.

The demon stopped about 20 feet from them, its sword hanging loosely by its side. Harry, Rowena, and Morrigan all stood at the ready, wands and staff firmly in their hands, ready to move on a whims notice.

"Greetings, mortals. Welcome to the land of Drûkskûrogoth. Now prepare to die!"

The demon started to raise its massive sword and Harry wasted no time in attacking.

The first spell out of his wand was a silver lance. It was effective against werewolves and vampires, so he figured it might be effective against demons as well.

It wasn't.

It smashed into the demon's shoulder and had no effect at all. The three of them separated as they ran away from the demon to gain more room. They formed a vague circle around it and made sure no one else was in the path of their spellfire.

Rowena was using several different kinetic spells, none of seemed to effect the massive demon anymore than a fly would.

Morrigan was favoring a wide variety of frost spells, but the otherworldly creature responded with demonic hellfire.

The demon needed no focus to cast spells, but it didn't seem to be able to do anything other than spew fire all over the place. The fire was similar to bloodfire, in that his shamanistic magic had no control over it.

The demon aimed a fireball at him, and Harry was forced to bring up a shield. No normal shield would work, and neither would a flame freezing charm.

He had to get creative, and that involved the use of nature. The being was unnatural, so it made sense to Harry that nature was the counter to it. Belief was half the battle.

A large disk of ironwood appeared in front of Harry, and the fire washed all around him. He didn't sense another spell, so he turned the shield into a projectile and sent it careening for the demons head.

Harry didn't wait for the demon to deflect it with its sword, which it did, before continuing to find something that it was weak against.

He had to keep moving to stay out of its lunge range. None of his favorites had any major effect on the beast. Blasting and bombardment hexes did nothing more than leave a small black spot where they hit.

It killed his conjured animals and trees with nothing more than brute strength.

He tried the cleaving spell that he used from the day before, but that left nothing more than a thin scratch. He actually deflected the sword slicing hex with its own sword, which was not a good sign.

He knew he had to bring out the big guns. These spells they were all using were too weak. But big, powerful spells always come at a cost. They take a lot of magical power to cast. He did not want to tire himself out before he even found man who summoned this demon.

Harry had to take a few seconds to block another blast of hellfire from the demons hands. Then he watched with horror as the demon suddenly turned around and focused its attention upon Morrigan.

A massive blast erupted from the incendiary creature's hand, hotter and brighter than any he had yet seen. He didn't think Morrigan could block such a thing.

He almost cried in shock when he saw the fire impact her, but when the fire dissipated, a large red dragon stood where Morrigan was previously.

Harry had nearly forgotten that she could do that. Hell, he didn't know she could do _that._ Turning into a dragon was something he had never heard of in normal circumstances.

And it wasn't like she was a small dragon either. She was of equal height with the 20 foot tall demon.

The Morrigan-dragon seemed to be unaffected by the hellfire, but then again, who had ever heard of a dragon being burned to death?

Morrigan seemed to be quiet angry though, and Harry couldn't blame her. He watched as Morrigan breathed hot flames all over the demon, but he hardly expected that to work either.

The demon merely raised his sword and the fire dissolved around it. The demon then swung at Morrigan, trying to connect with a lethal blow.

Morrigan had to back up, but the cloister they in seemed awfully cramped now with two large creatures combating in it.

The witch of the wilds took to the air, her massive wings shadowing the demons. Se breathed fire down at the demon as she clawed with all 4 of her limbs.

The demon caught her front two with his own bulging arms and they began a contest of strength. Morrigan was forced to the ground in order to give it her fullest.

Morrigan actually used her long neck and bit down onto the demons throat. It looked like she actually got a good hold of it, but couldn't do anything more.

The demon was far more experience though, and none of them saw what came next. Its tail shot out from underneath it, and shredded through Morrigan's right wing.

She gave out a lout shriek of pain, and everyone knew it was over. Harry and Rowena had hesitated to start slinging spells with Morrigan so close, but they had to do something.

The demon threw Morrigan to the ground, and took her wings in his hands. With a sickening crack, they crumpled into a mess of broken bones. Amazingly, the demon lifted the entire dragon up, and threw it into the wall.

Harry was not about to let her die. It was his fault there she was out here anyway, trying to pay off an honor debt.

The demon stalked over to where Morrigan lay slumped at the wall. Harry needed to buy some time for Rowena to grab Morrigan and run.

The Founder had tried various spells on the Demon, to no avail. But she did not have the Elder Wand, was not a shaman, and did not have Harry's raw magical power.

With those thoughts in his mind, Harry concentrated on a spell. He pointed the Elder Wand at the demon and allowed the magic all around him to flow through the wand.

"Depulso eximius!" Harry made a jabbing motion, and the overzealous banishing charm shot out of his wand like a tank round. The spell was invisible, but you could feel and taste the magic being emitted.

The spell had the desired effect. The demon took it straight to the chest and rocketed straight backwards, crashing into the wall. Part of the wall collapsed onto the demon, but it wasn't anywhere near dead.

"Rowena! Take Morrigan and go back the way we came. I will buy you some time."

Rowena hesitated only briefly upon seeing the steadfast determination in Harry's eyes. They both knew Harry was more powerful, and if this demon was going to be defeated, he had to pull out all the stops. He could not afford to hastate because she was nearby.

Rowena ran over to Morrigan, who had reverted back human form. Rowena felt for a pulse and checked her breathing, and was happy to see she was still alive.

Blood trickled from many wounds, and her mouth. Several of her bones were going to be broken, she just didn't have time to figure out which because Big Bad was getting up out of the rubble.

Rowena cast a stabilizing and hovering charm on the beat up girl. She headed for the door as quickly as she could, with Morrigan floating steadily behind her. Once she was through, she closed the door behind her and attempted to heal Morrigan.

When she turned back around, she was surprised to see Morrigan was conscious.

"Don't move! You have several broken bones. I will help."

"In my bag… potion." She rasped out.

Rowena nodded and started digging through the other girl's satchel. There were dozens of vials, but there were no more than 3 or 4 different types. She pulled out one of each and showed them to the girl.

Morrigan pointed at the red one. Rowena picked it up and took a sniff. It smelled like a standard healing potion. It would not mend bones, but it would save her from dying within the next 5 minutes. She carefully poured it down Morrigan's throat.

While the potion was working, Rowena went to work with her own magic. She wouldn't call herself a healer, but she knew more than her fair share of magic. In a castle full of children learning magic with only a handful of adults, all of the founders had to know how to heal.

Rowena started poking various parts of Morrigan's body and muttering spells under her breath.

Liberal use of healing charms followed by bone mending charms was the main course. The healing potion healed most of the superficial cuts and made her deep gashes stop bleeding, but Rowena finished the job up with her magic.

Morrigan's bones and most of her cuts were fixed, but she couldn't fix everything, not in this environment. Internal bleeding, organ damage, muscle damage, nerve damage… those were things that could not be healed with a 5 second charm.

But they were in the middle of hostile territory, and Morrigan needed to be able to fight. Rowena reached into her reservoir of knowledge and picked out a spell that would help.

It was questionable magic at best, but they had no other option.

"Extrico vigoratus." She tapped Morrigan on the head with her wand. Morrigan's wounds healed themselves to serviceable condition, but she would pay the price later when the pain comes back twice as worse and the damage twice as severe. She could very well die, but staying like she was before, she would have been guaranteed to die.

Rowena was panting slightly now from the fight with the demon and from healing Morrigan. She carefully helped Morrigan off the floor and watched as she flexed her fingers in amazement.

"Thanks… for saving me."

"You're welcome. That dragon thing was pretty amazing."

"Not amazing enough." Morrigan reached down into her satchel and brought our two vials filled with blue liquid. She handed one to Rowena.

She drank it without question after she saw Morrigan down hers. It tasted vaguely like a restorative, and she realized she was no longer panting and now felt refreshed.

They shared a view more indecisive words before they were jogging towards the door on the far wall. Rowena trusted Harry to not get himself killed, and Morrigan had no choice but to go along with it.

They hadn't walked 10 feet before the door behind them exploded and Harry bounced off the stone wall, having been hurled by the demon.

Harry slowly picked himself up out of the rubble. He saw them standing there, staring at him with shock on their faces.

"Go!" He shouted. "I'm going to kick this demons ass back to Hell!"

Harry tore off the rest of his battered tunic so now he was shirtless. He picked up his sword that he dropped when he smashed into the wall, and ran back out into the cloister.

Rowena wasted no time in blasting down the door in front of them. They walked about 50 feet before the hallway split into two, and they took the left branch.

Another door lay at the end, and another '_reducto_' later, they were in.

Rowena recognized the new room as the atrium to the main library. A desk was off to their left was where visitors had to check in, but the dust on the wood indicated many years of disuse.

Instead of going into the main shelving area of the library, they decided to clear the smaller rooms first. The one on the right side of the desk was slightly open, and light could be seen coming from it.

Morrigan took position to the left of the door, and nodded to Rowena. Rowena kicked the door open, and quickly jumped into the room. Morrigan was in only a second later.

Three robbed mages were sitting at a heavily gnarled desk, eating a small feast. They were not expecting the sudden entrance from the two women.

Morrigan wasted no time in her attack. Her staff whirled faster than anyone could see, and an arc of black lightning shot from the tip of it. The bolt of black magic reeked of evil, and the Rowena gave an involuntary shiver.

The blood mage did not even have time to blink as the bolt of black death smashed into him. He died effortlessly as his body disintegrated into a pile of ash. Morrigan wasted no movement as she spun her staff once more, firing off a ball of blue energy from her staff.

Rowena only blinked at the sight of the disintegration. A similar ball of blue light shot from Rowena's wand, and hit the side of the second mage at the same time as Morrigan's.

The mage had a briefly look of agony on his face as his chest imploded from the blunt raw magic of the witches.

The third blood mage finally had enough time to move. He flipped over the table just as another spell came from Rowena, splashing harmless on his makeshift barricade.

Mr. Blood mage used his temporary momentum to further his barricade. He waved his wand as he twirled around, banished the furnishing hanging on the wall into the pile in front him. He quickly twirled again, banishing the books from another wall at his attackers.

A gout of flame emerged from Morrigan's staff, incinerating the books. However, it took time for them to burn quickly, so Rowena acted quickly in using a blast of wind to knock the books off to the side.

Rowena had to sidestep a beam of blue light, before returning with a fiery lance of orange of her own. A steam of water emerged from her Morrigan's staff, extinguishing the books, and coating the floor underneath the blood mage.

The mage was not to be so easily defeated. He transfigured the floor underneath him, so he was now standing on a 6 inch pedestal above the water. Another sweep of his wand and the overturned table was banished towards the witches.

Morrigan took care of table with a floor to ceiling cleaving spell, and following up quickly with her own banisher. The wood shard rocketed towards the blood mage like a storm of arrows.

The blood mage waved his wand, incanting _"suikale," _causing a ribbon a pale green light to twist out from his wand, engulfing the wood shards. He combined his wand movements into his next spell, and an oblong ball of brackish looking magic spurted out.

Rowena knew that the longer the fight went on, the higher the chance of failure. She watched as little wavy beams of magic sprouted off the mages spell, igniting small fires where blood had puddled on the ground.

Before the situation could get out of hand, Rowena went in for the kill. She tapped her wand against the wall, chanted "_contremisco", _which caused the whole wall to shake, and dust to fall from the ceiling. Rowena followed up with a quick, silent, but powerful Reducto at the wall.

Morrigan saw what Rowena was up to, and threw her own demolishing curse at the wall. The spells hit, causing a large explosion of flying stone bricks. The blood mage attempted to shield, but the onslaught of stone was too much, and the bricks bludgeoned him into oblivion. His ribcage caved in first, followed by his skull.

The witches stood still for a few seconds, catching their breath. Morrigan was worse for the wear. Her body was really feeling the pain, and the large amount of magic she put off has put her into a disorientated state. She leaned up against the wall for a minute, until she could finally see straight again.

Morrigan brushed herself off, decided she wasn't in immediate danger of dying, and went over to the fresh bodies. Without hesitation she started picking through their pockets, looking for loot. Rowena simply inspected the room, while curiously watching Morrigan.

A surprised call of "Ooooh shiny!" came from Morrigan as she inspected a golden necklace she lifted from one of the bodies. A small smile tugged at Rowena's face as Morrigan's mood took a turn for the better. A few more trinkets found their way into a sack that Morrigan pulled out from her satchel.

Seemingly satisfied that she had a good haul, Morrigan stood back up, and the pair of witches walked over to the only other door in the room. They prepared themselves to enter.

* * *

Harry strafed the Demon's great sword as it cleaved into the ground. He quickly pricked at the demon's muscled thigh with his own sword. Drûkskûrogoth didn't even do so much as flinch.

Harry was forced to dodge backwards as the demon gave a massive horizontal sweep with his blade. He used the distance to his advantage. His hand moved around in a blur of motion. His clothes rippled as an invisible wind pick up.

Seconds later, the wind became tangible as a twister formed on the ground. Harry was not done though, and seconds later, the twister was heading towards the demon.

Just as it was getting within range, Harry utilized his control of the elements to the maximum. The cold, wet air played to his advantage as ice shards formed around the twister.

The demon was not expecting that, and took several huge hits from the ice projectiles, visibly startling it. Drûkskûrogoth slashed his sword through the twister to no avail. He roared in defiance as he crossed his arms to block the ice assault.

A minute went by as the twister's magic slowly dissipated. Harry took a calming breath as his body destabilized itself.

The demon snarled in rage. It lifted its non sword-hand up to the sky. His hand clenched and unclenched as a rain of hellfire poured out from the heavens on his whim.

Harry didn't wait around to see how much the spell would hurt. He shimmied backwards a few steps, and with a single thought, his sword lengthened to that of a great sword.

With an unpracticed, but nature ease, Harry threw his sword at the demon. While it was soaring, he brought the Elder Wand to bear, and empowered his blade with that of a banishing charm.

The blade punctured through the approaching rain of fire, and pierced right through the demons armor, and chest, burying itself hilt deep with the blade poking out its back.

The demon continued roaring in both rage and agony, and it began to aimlessly swing its sword around.

Harry wasted no time in continuing his attack. He waved his wand in a lazy circle. Above the field of a battle, dark clouds began to congeal into solid form.

The clouds kept darkening until they were the purest of black. Then with nary a whisper, the storm cloud unleashing its lightning fury.

Lightning arced to the ground in a frightening symphony. Six or seven streams of lightning danced along the ground in a continuous torrent.

Harry gave the lightest of motions with his wand, but all at once the lightning bundled up and struck the demon with no remorse. Harry's sword acted as a conduit as the beast began to roast within.

The demon collapsed in the midst of an agonizing scream. Harry held onto the lightning for 15 seconds more, before giving a large sigh of relief and letting the magic go.

The sky lightened up as the cloud dissipated and the crackling sound of lightning disappeared.

Harry surveyed the scene, but it was not at all to his likening.

"You've got to be shitting me," escaped from Harry's lips as he saw the demon start to move once more. The wounds started to knit themselves before his very eyes.

The demon reached for its dropped sword, before taking to a knee. It grasped its other hand around Harry's still buried sword, and slowly pulled it out, inch by inch.

Shock was plainly written on Harry's face as the Demon took to its legs once more, but now with two swords.

"Foolish Human. Now you will die!"

Harry was beyond pissed off now. It just shrugged off all the damage, even the seemingly fatal blow. He had to form a plan quick, but he also had to dodge the approaching swords as well.

He sidestepped one sword, but was a half second to late and took a quarter inch deep slash to the chest. He took a few hops back to gain some distance, but the demon was relentless in its pursuit.

"You know what? Fuck you!"

A cascade of spells poured out from Harry's wand, none of which made any headway. The demon's sword and Harry's seemed to dissolve the spells before they would do any harm, and the Demon's battered body was still resilient.

Harry was extremely fed up. The demon was towering him, so Harry did the only thing he could think of, consequences be damned.

"Avada Kedavra!"

* * *

Morrigan nodded to Rowena, and with a single jab of her wand, the door rocketed open on its hinge. They both quickly popped in with weapons at the ready. The room was well lit, and Rowena recognized it as the Arcane Laboratory.

Dozens of racks lined the walls, each bursting with various ingredients. There were dozens of cases as well, for completed potions. The back wall held true to the Azkaban nature, holding several sturdy bookcases will with ancient texts.

But in the midst of all this, was a creature that Rowena had never seen before. It appeared, however, that it was waiting for them.

"Welcome to my humble abode. I would ask you to nicely leave, but I already saw what you have done to my colleagues."

The creature was humanoid, in the vaguest terms. It was clad in intricate purple robes, showing only its head and two arms with long spindly fingers, leaving how many legs it had a mystery. Its face was grotesque, and as pink as a pig.

It was the tentacles that protruded from the lower half of its face that really got Rowena to thinking. The closest thing she could compare this creature to was an octopus. The creature had large eyes that seemed to bore into Rowena's skull, leaving her with a slight headache.

Morrigan, though, did know what it was. "Mindflayer. It utilizes powerful mind magic, along with the normal kind. Do not make eye contact. It is weak physically, and allergic to copper."

"That's right. Look around you, for that will be the last thing you see before I melt your brains out of your skulls."

The mindflayer needed no wand to work its magic. Its hands moved in a slow rhythmic dance, and Rowena found herself ducking a vicious red disk of energy that sawed into the wall behind her.

And without missing a beat, Morrigan as suddenly screaming in agony as the beast flayed her mind.

Rowena was quick to act. A powerful fireball emerged from her wand, scorching a path towards to mindflayer. The mindflayer put up a shield, but it was not strong enough due to its split attention.

The fireball smashed through the shield, impacting the mindflayer and setting it ablaze. The sudden mental assault on Morrigan ceased as the mindflayer screamed in agony.

Morrigan went down to her hands and knees and cough up some blood. "Yeah… I suppose fire works too."

Rowena helped Morrigan back up to her feet and gave her a once over. She looked like hell. They watched as the mindflayer burnt to ash.

"That wasn't so hard."

"You're not the one with the massive headache. Their mental attacks make it difficult at best to kill one solo."

"Well, thanks for taking one for the team."

"My pleasure." Morrigan responded dryly. It wasn't long before she was picking through the various bits around the room.

Rowena went over to the books, and turned a blind eye to Morrigan. A steady stream of 'oooh!' and 'pretty!' could be heard from Morrigan as she ransacked the place of anything she liked.

After 15 minutes or so, they both had a sizeable amount of loot. Morrigan had her pretty objects, and Rowena had a few books that she hadn't read yet.

"We should go find Artemis. He may need our help."

* * *

Harry pulled his sword from the dead hands of the demon. He took it in both hands and plunged it into the foul beast's darkened heart. Remorse was nowhere near his thought process as he decapitated to demon, just in case.

The killing curse is true to its name. It killed indiscriminately and effortlessly. He was expecting himself to vomit, go on a baby mauling spree, or suddenly want to name himself Darth Potter.

But he felt no different. There was no taint, and no bad taste in his mouth. It was only magic, and magic is what you make of it. The only stigma attached to the curse is of the one that humans put on it.

Satisfied that the demon was well and truly dead, this time for good, he took stock of his condition.

Harry had done a lot of spell slinging, and a lot of moving. He was slightly sore, and his magic was slightly fatigued. His body has a few cuts and bruises, but nothing that would impair him too much.

He clutched the Deathstick in his left hand and his now one-handed sword in his right. He made his way to the large doors the Demon had originally come through.

The room he entered was simply an arched hallway that led to another set of doors. The ceiling of the hallway was rotting away like much of the previous ceilings. Harry could see a door on the side of the hallway that led somewhere else, and his instincts told him to go through it.

A wave of his wand opened up the door, and he entered the room soundlessly.

Before him lay a grand room. It was probably the only room in the whole library complex that was in pristine condition and unmarred by the evil within.

A golden four-poster took up one side, a large desk in the middle, and several bookshelves with extremely valuable books lay on the other side.

And on the far side of the room was a glass door, leading to a large balcony, and Harry could imagine patio tables and chairs set up out there. But there wasn't.

There was a man standing there, cloaked in a black robe with hands behind his back, facing out towards the sea.

Harry made his way through the room, and out on to the promontory balcony. He stopped about 25 feet away and brought his weapons to the ready. He was not expecting the cloaked figure to speak first.

"Ah, Artemis Enteri, I've been waiting for you. Or should I call you Harry Potter?" The mysterious figured called out as he turned around.

"Who are you? How do you know my name?" Harry said, with surprise evident on his face.

"Me? I'm just the Archivist of Azkaban. There isn't much I don't know that I haven't heard or read. There's a certain power in a name, isn't there? Look how you tremble at the mere idea of me knowing your real name. Harry Potter. Asking all the wrong questions… What you should be asking is… _what am I?"_

The voice sent shivers down Harry's spine as the words hit home. Illogical panic had welled up in his body.

Then without the warning the Archivist unleashed his power.

Darkness poured out from the folds in the man's cloak, and evil seeped out of his every pour. Harry started hearing voices in his head, voices he had not heard since he was a student. The voice of his mother in the last seconds of her life.

And then the cold hit, the coldest aura Harry had ever felt. The light from the sun dimmed and the world plunged into twilight. The Archivist's aura was the worst thing Harry had felt in his life. It was as if he would never feel happy again. The very air he breathed seemed to freeze. No amount of chocolate would overcome this feeling, that he knew.

Harry then realized that this man, no, monstrosity, is the source of the evil in Azkaban. The Dementor Prime. There was no other word for the man. Harry recognized the evil magic for what it was.

Harry made his rallying effort. He reached into the deep pool of magic at his fingertips. He grasped onto all of his good memories, his happy memories. He grabbed hold of all his recent memories of Rowena, and used them as his fuel. Pleasurable experiences are happy experiences after all, and often times the most memorable.

The feeling of bliss engulfed Harry as he fought back the encroaching cold. He used his happiness in life as a shield, and he covered himself with it like articulated armor. He no longer felt the cold, or heard the voices, but he could still sense the evil pricking at his armor, trying to find a weakness in the joints.

But there wasn't any.

Harry lifted his wand, and uttered a single phrase of power. "Solarum Patronum!"

A massive burst of ecstatic light burst from his wand, burning away the Dementor Prime's aura. The light shone brighter than the sun itself, now free from the tendrils of darkness.

The Dementor Prime merely started to clap slowly as he walked a few steps closer. "Impressive. Now we fight!"

Harry was ready for most spells, but not for this spell. Bubbles of black energy poured out from the Dementor Prime's gnarled wand, before taking a mind of their own and homing in on Harry.

The bubbles effortlessly plowed through Harry's first shield, but not his second. They popped on Harry's shield of light energy, emitting a purple explosion as the magics released themselves. A few of the bubbles exploded close enough to send small shockwaves into Harry's chest, but he rolled with the pain.

"You are going to have to do better than black magic to defeat me." Harry challenged.

"Very well. Try this." The Archivist swirled his wand in several small elegant motions, and a storm cloud formed over head, black as night.

Black and ultraviolet lightning crackled in the air and the sound of a thousand winds filled their eardrums.

Harry merely raised an eyebrow at the black lightning before working his own magic. He summoned a neon green shield that absorbed the first bolts of black magic. After that he called forth his own storm cloud.

His pants rippled in the magical wind as he used his shamanism to create his largest storm cloud yet. It grew at an astonishing speed, and was even blacker than the Archivist's cloud. In only 15 seconds, it absorbed the other storm cloud into its form.

It didn't just emit lightning and thunder, but it also torrentially down poured upon the combatants. Harry utilized this and turned the rain over the Dementor Prime into ice shards. The literal icy arrows bit into the man, before he used a burst of magic to clear the air.

Harry could see he had done some damage. He did not waste the cloud's magic as he turned the lightning into growth.

Small saplings grew off the stone balcony, and soon grew into large trees. Flowers and grass grew in between, and soon they were in a small forest.

"You're forgetting one thing. Nature is the most powerful force on this planet, and I can control it."

The Archivist merely snarled "I. Will. Break. You!"

Harry smiled in responses, and quickly animated a few of the trees with his wand. The Archivist took the immedietly defensive using a mix of fire and cutting magics.

Harry didn't dawdle and continued his onslaught. Once more, winds arose around Harry as he manipulated the magic at his disposal.

Leaves gathered up into his ethereal cyclone. Dozens and dozens were at his call, and with a mere touch of his magic, they all spun on their axis viciously.

Without preemption, Harry shot the leaves at the Archivist. They were nothing short of speeding saw blades as more than a few landed home on his enemy's body. The Archivist gave a defiant roar of agony and pain, but it wasn't nearly as frightening as the Demon's he just fought.

Harry felt the magic backlash before he saw it. A blackish-purple wave of magic swept out in a concentric circle from the Dementor Prime.

The trees and nature all around them disintegrated back into the magic they came from. Harry used a white conical shield to avoid damage from the hostile magic.

"This game is over. Now you will die."

Harry braced himself once more. He could feel the magic building up in the air. If he struck before the spell was done, the raw magic could blow up the whole place. A dark ball of energy forming at the gnarled wand's tip was the only indication of the spell.

Then all at once, the Archivist released his spell. Harry did not recognize the ancient guttural language that the man chanted, but he could tell the spell wasn't used to create rainbows and daisies. The blackened sphere grew several feet at first, and then to a dozen feet. And then it started to come at him.

The black ball of magic smelled sinister, and looked like death. Harry quickly ran through a list of spells that he could used to stop the magic, and the list was very short. There was nowhere to run or dodge to either.

Harry finally recalled a spell he had once seen to block an extremely dark piece of magic; it was during his fifth year at Hogwarts while he was in the Department of Ministries. He fudged the wand movements, and intoned the incantation, and out from his wand emerged a golden dodecahedral shield.

The shield completely surrounded Harry as the dark magic smashed into him. He had to brace himself and grit his teeth to hold the magic back, but he held steady.

Harry gathered all the magic in his arsenal and poured it into the shield. The dodecahedral plates turned into flat squares as the shield took on the form of a tangible wall. Satisfied that his shield wall would hold back the nefarious magic, Harry prepared his counterattack. He wanted to finish the fight, once and for all.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the magic in the air. In an idea eerily reminiscent of echolocation, Harry used magic to determine the Archivists location.

Aiming his wand right at the man's chest, he incanted what he hoped to be his final spell. The only sign that Harry had done magic was the intense red light that emerged from his wand, and effortlessly punched through both the shield and the dark magic ball.

His fiery lance bore through anything in its path. The magic was so intense that it radiated small explosions after ever foot of travel. It sounded like mortar shells exploding as the concussive lance smashed into the Dementor Prime.

The black magic ball dissipated into the air, and Harry knew he had won.

The victorious wizard walked over to the fallen form of the Archivist, or what was left of him. Much of the body was mangled from Harry's spell, and the robes severely burnt. Gashes were evident as well from where Harry's leaves had sliced their way through.

He was dead. No heartbeat and no breathing. Harry patted down the Archivist's garb, looking for anything of note. The only thing he found was a tiny golden key.

He stood up and took a good look around him. Everything was at peace. The stench of dark magic was there, but it was also the part of history. The lingering evil would forever taint the place, but the place was safe for now.

Just as he put the key in his pocket, he heard a sound from behind him. He spun around quicker than the eye could follow, bringing his wand to bear. Harry let go a sigh of relief as it was only Morrigan and Rowena.

"Whew. I'm glad to see you two." Harry replied.

"Is it over?"

"I think so. Let's go find our books. I have a hunch that this golden key is the answer."

Harry stumbled his way over, and Rowena quickly took hold of his arm so he wouldn't fall over. He was extremely fatigued and could hardly think straight.

"Careful now. Don't hurt yourself now that it's over."

Harry simply laughed. "I'll try not to."

They made their way back into the private quarters. The two witches searched the books while Harry looked for anything that could use the key.

It did not take long to find it. It was the desk. The top part was a giant door, and once he turned the key in its keyhole, the whole thing moved aside on a hinge. Morrigan and Rowena immediately came over to have a look.

Inside the desk compartment were several more books, and various luxury items. Harry searched through the books and finally found what he was looking for.

The only thing denoting the journal for what it was is a double S on the cover, with a serpent motif.

"This is it. This is the book that has been causing so much trouble." Harry took a brief look through the pages, but closed it in disgust.

He looked through the other books and found a plain brown book with several unfamiliar runes on the front. "This it?" Harry asked Morrigan.

She looked up from one of the other books she was inspecting, and her face brightened up upon seeing what Harry held. "My Grimmoire!"

Morrigan bounced around for a bit holding her Grimmoire before tucking it into her sack and going back to her previous business; finding pretty items. A good half dozen trinkets went into her sack, including a large bracelet encrusted with gemstones. The witch of the wilds looked dazed as she stared at the piece of jewelry for nearly a minute.

Eventually she shook her head and but the bracelet into her loot sack with the rest of her baubles. "I'm ready to leave this place." Morrigan announced.

"Me too." Harry agreed. "I'm going to need some help apparating us though."

"I'll do my best." Rowena replied, up to the challenge.

"Alright, grab each other's hands. I'll clear a tunnel through the ambient magic of the place. Rowena, you do the navigating."

They all grabbed hands as Harry concentrated the dregs of his magic. He pierced the veil of ambient magic that hung over the island, and Rowena apparated the three of them out to Morrigan's hut. It was much easier to leave the place than it was to enter. Such is life.

A loud bang signified their arrival at Morrigan's hut.

"Well that was quite the adventure." Harry stated while holding his bruised ribs. He really had taken a beating during his fights, and it was a miracle he was standing at all.

"I agree." Morrigan stated. "And for such a hazardous, but successful adventure, I think both our hero's need a reward."

Harry knew what his reward was going to be, as that was one of the reasons why they went to Azkaban. He was unaware of that Morrigan would be doing something for Rowena as well. That something became quite obvious.

Rowena was watching the scene unfold with a curious look, as Morrigan approached her. She kept walking towards Rowena, but she didn't stop in front of her like Harry expected.

No, Morrigan kept walking right up to Rowena, cupped her face with one hand, and brought her in for a kiss.

Rowena and Harry were both stunned speechless, but Rowena returned the kiss unexpectedly. It was clear that Morrigan was driving the action as she deepened the kiss and turned her head sideways slightly. She even grabbed onto Rowena's backside as she deepened the kiss even further.

But then just as it looked like things were going to get more interesting, Morrigan broke the kiss. Rowena looked dazed and confused, but Harry spoke up first. "I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be angry or aroused, but that was entertaining."

"You're lucky." Morrigan responded. "Rowena is not into the whole girl/girl thing. You can tell by the way she holds herself, she needs a man. I wasn't sure before, but now I am."

Harry gave Morrigan a small smile and walked over to Rowena who says "Well, that was interesting."

"Indeed."

"I'll give you your shapeshifting lessons in a week's time. I need some time to recover from today; I took a beating in my form." Morrigan tells Harry, acting as if she didn't just kiss another woman.

"Alright, I'll be there." Harry replies. "Rowena, I think we should head back to the tower. I need to rest and recuperate."

"I'll apparate us." Rowena looped an arm around Harry's muscular chest and pulled him into half-hug before disappearing from Morrigan's hut.

* * *

_Author's Notes_

_I apologize for the long wait on this chapter. As you can see we finally get some closure on part of the story, but the new plot arc has already emerged. No sexy time in this chapter, sorry! _

_And before I get any complaints, there will be no Rowena/Morrigan romance at all. In fact, Morrigan's role in this story is almost at an end, sorry._

_I'm not sure when chapter 16 will be written. I have been very busy with my last semester of college. I have started several other writing projects in the interim. I have started an HP/Fleur story, and a HP/DF crossover fic, neither of which have been posted yet. I have also started work on an original fiction that can be found at DarkLordPotter (.) net. The first 5 chapters are posted, and the 6__th__ is completed and being edited._

_As for the writing in this chapter. If I've said it once I've said it a thousand times. A writer never sees his own mistakes, but I do spend significant time in editing my own chapters. I guarantee I have made grammar mistakes. I'm an engineer, not an English major. That being said, do let me know if you see some major errors, and please be specific in each instance._

_Thanks for reading._


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